


What happens in Vegas

by LaTessitrice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaTessitrice/pseuds/LaTessitrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy has the hangover from hell, a new ring, and a god in her bed.</p><p>*on indefinite hiatus*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the most original of ideas (or titles) but it's fun to write. 
> 
> Rated for language and future smut. Abandon all seriousness (and hope) here.

For some reason, a baby elephant was sitting on Darcy’s head.

“Holy shit, Jane,” she mumbled into the pillow as consciousness made its annoying, insistent presence felt. Why she was even in the same bed as Jane was a mystery, one that would probably involve opening her eyes to figure out, so for now it would remain unsolved. The only way she could even tell was because of the weight in the bed next to her, and the soft, muffled breathing close to her ear.“How much did you let me drink last night?”

“I am not Jane,” a very male voice replied, coated in sleep.

 _Oh fuck._ Her eyes opened in shock, pain lancing in at the bright sunlight. The voice belonged to Loki. The hand she was just realising was curled around her thigh--her _naked_ thigh--belonged to Loki.

The gold band on her left hand also belonged to Loki.

“Shit,” she hissed, what memories she had of the night before returning at the sight of the ring. Vegas, alcohol, drunken visit to the wedding chapel. And then... “What would you say if I told you we got accidentally got married last night?”

The hand on her thigh tightened its grip then was removed altogether. “I remember,” he said quietly.

Darcy buried her face into the pillow, but it was too late to hide from the situation. She was in bed with the alien prince she’d mistakenly married the night before. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. She needed a plan.

“Okay, first off, can you do something about my head? Because I want to die.”

There was a grunt, then he shifted away, climbing out of the bed to go do whatever it was he was going to do. She rolled over, gripping the sheets tight around her body, right into the warm spot he’d left. His body heat reminded her of exactly how they’d ended up naked in bed together and she stifled a squeak, crossing her legs at the ankles. Now was not the time to get distracted by memories of warm skin and long fingers. She had to focus.

This had happened that one time on Friends, right? They could get an annulment. It’d be easy. Then they could back to the uneasy friendship they had going on. Well, friendship was kind of overstating it. She tolerated him because Thor asked her to, when everyone else gave him the cold shoulder. The fact that she could barely remember all the things they’d done in this bed last night was almost like it had never happened anyway, so there was no reason for things to get awkward.

When Loki came back she averted her eyes, because he didn’t seem to have any compunctions about walking around in the altogether. His face was unreadable--if she’d had to guess at an expression, it was ‘ _give me more fucking sleep_ ’. He handed her a glass of water and a white pill.

“Advil? That’s your magical solution?” she asked.

“I have...enhanced it,” he said, crawling back under the section of sheets she’d left free. She shrugged and tossed it back, shutting her eyes and waiting for something to happen.

“I have a plan,” she told him. It was much easier to talk to him when she couldn’t see him. That way, if his expression turned murderous--or if he genuinely decided to murder her--then she had no idea and could live on in blissful ignorance.

“Really.” Yeah, he sounded as exhausted as she felt.

“We get an annulment. It’ll be like last night never happened. Well, the wedding part, at least.”

“It’s that easy,” he replied flatly.

“Sure. We just have to go to city hall or whatever it is here and fill in some papers.” She cracked one eye open and realised the pounding in her head had vanished. “Oh, wow. That was some enhancement.” He’d pulled a pillow over his face, so she took the opportunity to stumble off the bed, grab her clothes and run for the bathroom.

It was hard to tell what Loki’s reaction was, but he didn’t seem deliriously happy. Not that she expected him to be. She ought to be thankful he wasn’t burning Vegas down--his opinion of human beings had not improved much since he’d returned to Earth, so she doubted he was impressed at the idea of marrying one. Or, indeed, sleeping with one.

Showering helped cure what the painkiller hadn’t, apart from all the soreness from the post-wedding activities. She hadn’t seen any evidence of condoms on her dash for the bathroom, but her birth control shot meant she wouldn’t be welcoming any Mini Mischiefs into the world.

She checked to make sure Loki was fully covered before re-entering the bedroom. “I’m good to go. Are you coming?”

“No,” he said with finality, rolling over so his back was to her. His naked, pale, lithely muscled back. Despite her annoyance with him, her mouth watered at the sight. She was 75% sure she’d licked his back at some point during the night, and she couldn’t blame herself. In fact, if she looked closely enough, she was sure a faint ring of teeth marks still branded his skin just below his shoulder blade. “You deal with it.”

This was all Tony Stark’s fault.

* * *

It’d started innocently enough. Let’s all go out and celebrate defeating Thanos’ invasion of Earth! Tony Stark’s paying! Except, oh wait, we can’t go out in NYC because someone might recognise Loki, who is kinda-sorta-one-of-us now but did kill a lot of people in the city that one time. So off to Vegas we all go, Loki begrudgingly, because he wasn’t really an Avenger, just someone with a grudge against Thanos who’d fought on the right side. Darcy’s role as Tony’s new assistant (she came from three generations of mechanics-- _of course_ she was good with technology, tasers included) meant she got an invitation too, and as if Jane was going to agree to go without her.

Of course, Jane had hated all the gaudy lights and constant gambling, so she’d escaped to the room she shared with Thor yesterday afternoon, feigning a headache. Darcy wasn’t a fan of gambling either but since Jane had stolen the headache excuse, she was left babysitting the Asgardians. At least they’d been persuaded to wear suits rather than their eye-catching armor. Boy did Armani look good on the pair of them.

Bringing the god of mischief to the mecca of gambling was, in hindsight, a poor choice. He didn’t cheat exactly, proclaiming games of chance beneath him. Instead, he tinkered with the slot machines, studying them to figure out how they worked and then zapping them with whatever mojo they needed to allow Thor to win near constantly. Not that Thor knew this. Thor was definitely a believer in luck. He wasn’t winning high stakes but he was so happy every time the machine lit up and spat coins out at him, whooping and beaming like a kid.

That, right there, was when Darcy clued in on what Loki was doing. He and Thor had mended a few bridges during the fight against Thanos, and now Loki was doing something to repay his brother for standing by him despite everything. It was kind of sweet in an illegal sort of way. She’d told him that later, when alcohol had shut down any hope of a filter.

“You’re not all evil, really. Just misunderstood.”

There’d been a lot of uncertainty hidden behind his replying sneer.

And, oh, had there been alcohol. She’d stuck to the fancy, fruity cocktails the bar served, laughing louder every time she went to order one with a kinky name. Earth alcohol just wasn’t good enough for the Princes of Asgard, and Loki had somehow strengthened the beer they were drinking to Midgardian levels. Seeing Thor stagger around was hilarious yet alarming. When the casino got suspicious about Thor’s winning streak, the three of them piled into a cab and headed for another one.

“Oh my God--look, it’s the wedding chapel!” Darcy yelled as they stopped at a set of lights, the neon sign of the chapel up ahead. “Someone has to get married. It’s Vegas. Someone _always_ has to go home accidentally married by a bad fake Elvis.”

“I wish that Jane were here to fulfill the requirement with me,” Thor said, pouting wistfully. “But since I cannot marry you, Darcy, without upsetting her, you must marry Loki instead.”

It had been logical at the time.

“Pull over!” she’d instructed the driver, then they’d all piled into the chapel. Even Loki was far more jovial than usual in his inebriated state. It got fuzzier from there--Darcy thought the vows may have included promises to never try and take over the Earth again (Loki) or call Loki sweet again (her). At least she’d got an awesome ring out of the deal, since Loki’d upgraded the cheap gold-plated band they bought on the spot for the real deal, courtesy of the same magic that had pimped the booze.

Once the ceremony was over, Thor attempted to carry them both out of the chapel bridal style, but the best he’d been able to manage was a stagger to the curb. They shoved him into a cab and clambered in after him, then manhandled him at the hotel until he was safely snoring on the carpet outside Jane’s door. From there, an unusually handsy Loki had carried her to her room.

Well, shit. That was a whole other stupid decision.

* * *

Since she had no idea where she needed to go, she hailed a cab outside the hotel.

“City hall?” she said, avoiding the driver’s eye as she slid into the backseat.

“You have fun last night, sweetheart?” he asked with a knowing grin, pulling into the traffic. “You need the clerk’s office.”

“Hmm.” She leant her head against the glass and shut her eyes against the glare of the sun. The cab stopped only a few streets from where they’d departed and the driver demanded an eye-watering fare. “That was, like, three blocks. You could’ve just given me directions.”

He shrugged and held out his hand, shit-eating grin in place. She smashed some bills into his palm and crawled out, slamming the door behind her, and kept stomping until she was inside and at the right desk. Then all her anger evaporated, leaving only itchy, squelchy sheepishness behind. How did she do this? “Hi, I’m the idiot that got drunk and married a sociopathic alien. I may have some buyer’s remorse.” Holy shit, what was her mother going to say when she found out?

She vowed then and there that her mother was never going to find out.

There was only one person in line in front of her, and they only took a few minutes, leaving her facing a very bored-looking desk clerk. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Hi,” she said brightly, checking the clerk’s name tag, “Rhonda. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to go about this but--”

“You need these,” Rhonda said, taking one look at Darcy and reaching for a bundle of forms. “When it asks you for your reasoning, tick lack of understanding, say it was due to intoxication. Use black ink, make sure it’s legible, and you need to arrange for a disinterested third party to serve the summons to the other person. You got any reason to think he’ll contest it?”

“Um...no.” The documents were about annulments. The clerk had apparently seen this all before. “I don’t need the marriage certificate, do I? Because I’m not sure where it is.”

“No. We just need your details, we can find a record of the ceremony from those.” Darcy was pretty sure Rhonda had this monologue down to an art. “It’s going to take at least 20 days for a court date to come up but if the suit’s not contested, you don’t need to be present, we’ll send you notification that the annulment’s been processed successfully.”

Darcy blew out a breath in relief. “That’s...good, yeah, that’s awesome. I won’t be here in 20 days.”

Rhonda gave a disinterested smile. “That’ll be $270.”

“ _What?_ ”

“We accept check, cash or card.”

“Um, I might have to come back with that.” She could hit Tony up for the cash, surely. No, then she’d have to explain what happened, and Tony was the worse person to find out about this. Maybe Loki could sent Thor back out to the slot machines and magic up some dollars, because her bank account didn’t have a tenth of that in it. “I kind of need to speak to...the guy...to check what his details are.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, realising what it sounded like. “I mean--I know his name and stuff, just maybe not _exactly_ his name.”

 _Stop talking._ Thing was, she had no idea what Loki’s alias was called. Luke something. She’d have to speak to him and get all of his fake information.

“I’ll be back with these,” Darcy said, scooping the papers up and shoving them into her purse. Rhonda was already sizing up the person in the line behind her.

About a block away from the office, she realised why everyone took cabs everywhere in Vegas. They had air conditioning. She was used to New Mexico desert heat, but something about the all-over concrete of the city made the midday sun stifling, and maybe she’d been exaggerating when she’d said it was only three blocks. It felt a lot more than three blocks now and _ye gods_ did she ache everywhere. Especially where she’d let an actual god have his fun.

“Stupid god,” she mumbled to herself. “Stupid immortal can’t handle his booze. Stupid _husband_. Oh, motherfucker, I have a husband.”

Maybe she could hock the ring for the cash to pay for the annulment. Actually, if Loki had done a proper upgrade, it was probably worth way more than the clerk’s fee. He had a gold fetish anyway so he wouldn’t skimp--she was probably wearing a ring worth more than her annual salary.

Actually, why was she still wearing the ring? She decided it was safer on her hand than being lost in the bowels of her purse. She just hoped Loki didn’t demand it back.

Inside the sweet relief of the hotel’s air-conditioned lobby, she stopped to finally check her phone. Three missed calls from Jane but nothing from anyone else. If everyone else had been out as late as she had--and knowing the rest of the crew that had come to Vegas, it was probably even later--no one was going to be awake yet. And there was still a god in her bed. She should get brunch at the hotel buffet then call Jane back. No point dealing with Jane’s over-the-phone meltdown at the news (because there was no way Thor hadn’t told her what’d happened) on an empty stomach.

The buffet bar was nearly empty at this weird time of morning; everyone had already eaten or wasn’t the breakfast type. At least, that was what she assumed, until she turned a corner in the L-shaped room and found the biggest table in the middle crammed with Avengers. Tony Stark sat at the head of the table, which was lined with green and gold balloons, wearing the smirkiest smirk she’d ever seen. Thor sat at the opposite end, Jane slung under his arm, who to her credit looked ready to shrink under the table.

“Darcy!” Thor greeted. “Come sit. Will my brother be joining us soon? I have arranged a wedding breakfast.”

“You _what?_ ”

The quiet footfall behind her and the way everyone’s eyes widened at something over her shoulder told her Loki had just arrived. Perfect. Vegas might burn after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony raised a glass of champagne in toast. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“I hate you all,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring round at the group. Jane sheepishly mouthed an apology, and Thor’s happy expression clouded with confusion.

“Then you make a match made in heaven,” Tony remarked.

“How did you even manage all this without Pepper? You have the organizational skills of a donut.”

“True, but I tip magnificently.”

She flipped the bird in Tony’s direction and turned to Loki. “Don’t destroy anything, okay, they’re still fixing Manhattan. I got the paperwork, it’s all under control.”

His expression was completely inscrutable, though his eyebrows scrunched together when he saw the balloons. They probably weren’t a thing on Asgard. He’d showered too, and was back in a suit, the collar of his shirt opened to expose his throat. Her traitorous belly did a back-flip at the sight.

“Is this a Midgardian custom?” He gestured towards the table. Thor nodded enthusiastically, grabbing a balloon, which burst in his hands. He stared at the ruined skin in his hand. Jane leaned across to explain in hushed tones how balloons worked and the corner of Loki’s mouth twitched in the closest Darcy had ever seen to a smile.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Tony Stark being an ass is a Midgardian custom. One I’m not taking part in. Guess I’m ordering room service for breakfast.”

She turned around and stalked away, reaching the elevator as Jane scuttled up behind her. Darcy gave her the stink-eye and stabbed at the call button, arms folded.

“I’m really sorry, okay,” said Jane. “I opened the door in the middle of the night to find Thor trying to tell me about Loki and this guy in a white besparkled garment. I just made sure the story wasn’t about Loki killing the guy, let Thor in and went back to sleep. Then this morning he was awake before me, and everyone else had found out before I could stop him. I tried to find you but you’d already left and _you weren’t answering your cell!_ What else was I supposed to do?”

Darcy unfolded her arms, stomping into the elevator as the doors swooshed open. “You could have come out last night and made sure I didn’t do something stupid like this!”

Jane followed her in. “You wouldn’t have listened to me anyway!”

She had a point. “Screw it, you’re right. I just wish you’d gagged your boy-toy before he got to Iron Ass.”

Jane sighed. “So do I.” She lifted her hands, which Darcy only now realized were full. “I grabbed you breakfast.” She came bearing toast and coffee.

“And I love you for it,” Darcy said, relieving Jane of the goodies. “Girl needs her sustenance when she’s filling in important documents.” They arrived at her floor, and she hit the hold button with her elbow.

“You need any help?” Jane asked.

“Nah. You go make sure Thor isn’t doing anything to make matters worse. Someone needs to make it clear to him that this is _not_ a joyous occasion, before all that good-natured celebrating rubs Loki up the wrong way. And if you can find a way of discovering Loki’s secret identity while we’re here, I need it.”

“You could ask him yourself,” Jane suggested. “Are you avoiding him?”

“What do you think? We did things last night I can’t name. How am I supposed to look him in the face?”

Jane tried to hide her horror but failed miserably. “I can’t believe you had sex with Loki.” She glanced at Darcy, her gaze appraising, as if she were reevaluating her. She probably thought it’d been all whips and chains and things Darcy wasn’t supposed to be into.

“Don’t pull that face! The sex was the only good thing to come out of it.” She bit into the toast and stepped out into the hallway. “You can hear all about it one day.”

She waved goodbye, cackling at Jane’s distress as she headed back to her room.

The bed had been made in her absence, so all evidence of Loki was gone. It was probably a good thing, so she wasn’t getting distracted while she traipsed her way through the mountain of paperwork. Didn’t mean it wasn’t a damn shame the proof she’d bagged a god was all gone.

Loki was exactly how Darcy had imagined him to be in the sack: dominating but controlled, resisting her frenzy to slow things to the point where combustion was a real possibility. That was why she’d spent so much time marking him up with nails and teeth: it’d been her best effort to get him to loosen the reins a little. Oh, and he was stamina incarnate. She’d flagged long before he showed signs of tiring, which was the point he’d told her to lay back and let his tongue go to work. The booze had dulled the edge of any insecurity she might have ordinarily felt, so when he’d made suggestions—lift your leg like _this_ , move your hips like _that_ —she’d complied. He knew what he was doing, knew how to read her reactions to make it exceptional. A night with him was like going from a bicycle to a Harley Davidson. It was difficult to imagine ever riding a bicycle again.

And that was with her memories all fuzzed up.

To avoid getting trapped in flashback heaven, Darcy flopped down on the couch with her head facing away from the bed, put her ear-buds in, and pulled out her lucky pen. She had a god to break up with.

* * *

Loki’s magic Advil was wearing off, her right eye had developed a twitch, and her hand was cramping from trying to write neatly for thirty pages straight. The knock at the door came as a welcome break.

She checked who her visitor was through the spy-hole in the door, just to make sure it was someone she wanted to face. Loki or Tony were not invited to the party, but maybe Jane had brought more food. She discovered Thor’s sombre face staring back.

“Jane sent me with this,” he said when she opened up, holding out a cup of coffee.

“Awesome. You have no idea how much I need this.”

“May I enter? I have matters to discuss with you.”

“Uh oh. Is this something to do with your kicked puppy face?” She stepped aside so he could come in and leaned against the door when it swung shut. She hoped the caffeine kicked in soon. It was going to be a race between it and the returning headache.

“I’ve been in discussion with Jane for sometime about your reaction to the events of last night.”

“Look, don’t worry about it. I don’t blame you. I’m an adult, I’m responsible for my own boo-boos. See?” She grabbed a fistful of the forms, waving them vaguely. “I mean, fooling around in front of a sweaty Elvis impersonator can’t even count as a real wedding ceremony on Asgard, so it’s not like Loki even thinks we’re actually married, right?”

“You exchanged vows. That’s all we would expect for it to be a valid commitment.” Not the answer she wanted. “And this is the matter I need to raise with you…”

He paused, until the dramatic effect got tiresome. “Spit it out. I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“Darcy, the dissolution of marriage is not a custom on Asgard.”

“So? First, we’re not on Asgard, so your backward-facing, woman-unfriendly customs don’t apply here. Second, it’s annulment, not divorce, which makes it like the marriage never happened in the first place.”

Thor shifted uncomfortably. “Yet you consummated it.”

“Dude, how the _fuck_ do you know that?”

“I spoke to Loki while you were away from the hotel. How can you claim the event never happened if you’ve shared a bed?”

She wanted to tell him she’d shared a bed with a lot of people—including his girlfriend, in a non-sexual way—but that wasn’t going to win her the argument. “Look, if the state of Nevada doesn’t think that _that_ ,” she made a vague gesture with one hand, “makes it anymore official, it’s good enough for me.”

“But I’ve already sent word to Asgard.”

She dropped the stack of papers. “What? How? _Why?_ ”

“It’s a joyous occasion. Our parents would wish to know about my brother’s happiness. Even if you completed the annulment process here, I’m afraid you would still be viewed as wed in Asgard.”

“Already you are the suckiest brother-in-law in the history of forever. Loki is going to go off the deep end when I tell him this!”

It took Thor a moment to process the idiom. “You believe he will be angry? Darcy, are you so blind?”

“No. Not after the laser surgery.”

For once, Thor was the one looking at her like she was slow. “I meant, have you not noticed a change in my brother’s demeanor to you of late?”

“Not really.” Yeah, he’d stopped scowling at her, but not-scowling and actually being nice were completely different things. “I’m pretty sure he’s upgraded me from insect, but that’s all.”

“Darcy, my brother did not marry you by accident.”

She was aware she’d asked a lot of questions in the last few minutes, mostly single-word ones, but that didn’t stop the next one slipping out. “ _Whu?_ ”

“He has no intention of allowing the annulment to go forward. In fact he intends to contest it.”

She slumped down onto the couch. “I don’t get it. He was so grumpy this morning! And I mean, he doesn’t even like me.”

“On that score, you’re mistaken.”

“Are you sure? Because we’ve barely interacted, and it’s all been on Avengers business. He mostly just ignores me. We’ve never even had a full-blown conversation.”

“But you smile at him and make jest with him. No one does these things with Loki. He has to come to the understanding these are a sign of affection from Midgardian women.”

“Yeah, and I bet you helped him with that understanding,” she grumbled. “I was being friendly for your sake! I thought if I was nice to him, he’d be less likely to blow Jane up when you made kissy-faces at her.”

Thor stared down at his toes. “He may have sought clarity from me. Your behavior puzzled him. And you flaunted your…mammary glands at him—”

“ _They’re at the front!_ ”

“When he thought you might feel affection for him, he examined his own feelings and decided that he wished to court you. Only, my brother had never done such a thing before, and then the war got in the way…”

“Newsflash—the war’s over. His mouth still works.” An unbidden flashback of how well his mouth worked came to her, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Why didn’t he talk to me?”

“He believed you’d shown your hand when you protected him from Thanos, and he’d reciprocated. All the Midgardian stories he has consumed say that saving a suitor’s life is considered a romantic gesture.”

“We weren’t suitors, we were just teammates. Not letting someone die on your team is considered not being an asshole. So he got the wrong idea, you suggested marriage and he took it seriously?” Why were all men such complete numbskulls?

“My brother is not well-versed in how to approach such matters, and he finds it difficult to discuss his emotions. Breaking him of his urge to conceal the truth will be a prolonged task.”

“Fantastic. Fucking amazing. I know you probably think it’s kind of flattering, but agreeing to marry me when I was in no state of mind to know what I was getting myself into is more than _little_ creepy.”

“I can speak to him again. He is reticent, but I’m sure with the correct approach—”

“No, I’ll do it.” She couldn’t avoid it forever, and Thor’s approach was probably going to be closer to ‘rampaging hippo’ than tactful. At least if she was straight with Loki he’d understand where she coming from.

So long as she didn’t call him creepy to his face, it’d all be peachy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to chapter one made me flail. A lot. Thank you to everyone who read, shared and reviewed! 
> 
> Thanks to my pre-readers for prodding me when things just didn't make sense.
> 
> See you in two weeks for chapter three.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Um. Hi! I'm back!
> 
> The update every two weeks thing turned out to be a little ambitious, mainly because real life got very busy (I've been abroad twice since the last chapter), and also because I had absolutely no idea where I was going with the plot. I finally sat down and forced myself to finish this chapter, and along the way realised where I wanted to take the story. I'm not going to make promises about how often I will update, but barring calamity, it won't be nearly five months (oops) again. I normally update pretty regularly, I swear.

Darcy’s plan of attack was simple: feign ignorance. It’d give Loki graceful way to back out without losing face. It wasn’t like she wanted to hurt his feelings, so if she pretended she had no idea why he was against the annulment, they could all walk away from the experience with dignity intact. And if he expressed an interest in a repeat of the bedroom activities, hey, she’d offer him whatever comfort he needed.

Finding him was the tricky part. She tried the room he was supposed to be sharing with Thor and got no response, then found herself aimlessly wandering around the hotel, dodging Avengers along the way.

“If I were the god of mischief, where would I be?” she asked herself. Trouble was, putting herself in Loki’s shoes was not easy. She doubted he’d left the hotel, because nothing in Vegas impressed him. He could magic up his own neon if he wanted to, and he’d been grumbling about the heat since they arrived. All those layers of leather meant he was slow-roasting if he went anywhere without air con.

Another problem presented itself on her third circuit of the hotel. She kept having to dash back to her room when nature called, and a horrible realisation crept up on her the fifth time. This was all Loki’s fault too.

“Why are you wriggling like that?” Jane asked when she opened to her room. Darcy ignored her and dashed for the bathroom. When she emerged, Jane’s expression was somewhere between sympathy and amused.

“Aesir can have that effect on you.”

“Ugh, why didn’t you warn me?” Darcy griped.

“Because I didn’t know you and Loki were a thing!”

“We’re not a _thing_. Where’s Thor, I need to ask him if he has a bat signal or something he can summon Loki with.”

Jane held up her cellphone. “You could call him.”

“Wait, Loki has a cell?”

“You mean you don’t have your _husband’s_ number?”

Darcy grabbed for the phone, sending him a text to meet her in her room. When she was done, she tossed the phone back to Jane and ran to the bathroom again. “How do I stop this?”

“Lots and lots of cranberry juice.”

“I hate cranberries.” But when she returned to her room and collapsed on the bed to wait for Loki to show up, she ordered some juice to be sent up.

She was on her second pint before he poofed into existence, making her shriek and nearly drop the glass. “Couldn’t you knock like a normal person?”

“It was you who requested my presence,” he replied, and gestured at the carton of juice. “Is this a new predilection of yours?”

“This,” she said, “is all your fault. You and your big penis mean I am having to drink an entire Thanksgiving’s worth of cranberries.” He didn’t look anymore enlightened, but she wasn’t about to start explaining about UTIs to Norse gods. He did, however, look more than a little smug.

“I may not be sure what ails you, my lady, but for the compliment, I shall endeavour to assist you.”

She was expecting more souped-up Advil. What she got was Loki suddenly behind her, hands on her belly and sweeping lower. “Woah there!”

“Sssssh. I need to concentrate.” His hands stayed on her lower abdomen, lifting up the hem of her t-shirt to snake underneath, and even despite the ever-present burning, she wasn’t unaffected by him. He’d done good things with those fingers and they couldn’t be blamed for the situation. It was only natural to feel all tingly when he— “Oh”.

The tingles were apparently the equivalent of heavy-duty antibiotics. “That should cure it.” He spoke directly into her ear, so his breath cascaded down her neck, taking the velvet of his words with it, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a squeak.

She stepped away, yanking her t-shirt around and slamming the juice down harder than she meant to. “Thanks,” she muttered, only just keeping it from becoming a stutter. He hadn’t stopped looking smug, not even a little.

 _Get a grip_ , she told herself. She’d been fine around him for months, and now she was going to fall apart whenever he touched her? She needed to grow a backbone or she’d never pull the annulment off.

“Was that the only reason you wished to see me?” he asked, still doing that sultry whisper thing.

“Actually, I just need you to sign these.” She picked up the annulment papers from the couch and held them out to him.

“I see.” Loki made no move to take them from her. “I’m afraid we’re at cross-purposes.”

“I know, I know, Thor’s explained a few things.”

“Did he really.” It wasn’t a question, more a wary statement.

“Well sure, I guess it makes sense Asgard would take a prince getting married seriously. They don’t realise what Vegas is like. But I have an idea that will help us all back out of this gracefully, and you get to keep your reputation intact.”

“This sounds promising.” His flat tone did not match his words.

“Just tell them we were playing a joke on Thor and it got way out of hand. Nobody would be surprised if it were the truth.”

“I see,” he repeated. “The idea is not without merit.”

“And it shows you haven’t gone soft on Thor, because I know you don’t want anyone thinking that.”

He paused, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin as he spoke. “You’re better at dissembling than I’d previously observed. But you’re still not good enough to fool me. I know Thor told you how seriously I view the vows we made to each other.”

She took a decisive step backwards, away from his seductive hoodoo. “Really? I mean, I can barely remember the vows. And we hardly know each other—you don’t want to be married to me, I’m—”

“Yes I do.”

“No you _don’t_ , I swear.”

“Do not presume to tell me what I want. I fail to understand why you are so surprised—we pledged eternity to each other, after all.”

For a split second, Darcy had a weird moment of clarity, like deja vu’s cousin had come visiting. Despite the utter guilelessness on Loki’s face, she knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. This wasn’t all about him liking her, if it was at all.

_God of lies, remember. You can’t take anything he says at face value._

She tried a different tactic. “You have to admit it makes no sense. You were so not impressed this morning when you woke up and realised I was there.”

“You immediately expressed regret. It was not a conducive to a good mood.”

“Right. Let’s focus on that regret. I did not intend to get married yesterday and I’d really like to not be married now. I’m not entirely sure if I believe in marriage, and I’d want to marry for love if I ever did it at all. I don’t love you. I barely _know_ you. And I would really appreciate it if you signed those papers so we could just walk away from this now.”

He didn’t speak for a long minute, staring at her with those unnerving eyes. Oh, she definitely knew he was up to something with this whole marriage thing. She just didn’t know what.

“I feared this would be your reaction,” he said. “On that note, I have a proposal which you may be interested in.”

Making bargains with the god of mischief was probably the stupidest thing she could possibly do, but she had nothing to lose at this point. “What?”

“You give the marriage one month. If at the end of that period you still wish to annul it, I will sign your paperwork.”

“And in that month..?”

“I shall use the time to court you.”

“You want to date me?” She had the sudden image of Loki is his full battle regalia, eating popcorn while a superhero movie played on a cinema screen. It took all the willpower she had not to laugh out loud.

“ _Court_ you,” he corrected. “There is a wealth of difference between the two.”

That just sounded old-fashioned. Maybe they’d get Thor as a chaperon. No, not Thor—given last night, he couldn’t be relied upon to steer either of them away from bad decisions. Maybe Pepper.

“I need time to think.” And fact find. She wasn’t walking into this blind, without a way to escape later. Now she was suspicious of his motives, it was even more important.

“By all means, take all the time in the world.” He didn’t move.

“Alone.”

He gave her knowing eyes. “You wish to seek guidance. Very well. Take your time. The bargain stands whatever advice you receive—the marriage will be a permanent one whether you agree to the trial or not.”

“You realise how creepy that sounds?”

The way he narrowed his eyes reminded her that for as nice as he was being to her, and had always been to her, he was a dangerous man. Alien. God. She’d seen him in battle, and he was a force to behold, in hot rage or cold fury. He’d just used magic to heal her, but he could as easily use it to break her. He wasn’t known for being emotionally stable and suddenly the realisation that he’d got attached to her—or had plans involving her—was more than a little alarming.

She mumbled an apology and she made a mental note to yell at Thor later. Just because he thought Loki was back on an even keel didn’t mean he was safe.

“Can I have your number?” she asked, just before he opened the door. He glanced at her cellphone, sitting on the table next to the abandoned cranberry juice.

“You already have it,” he replied, and left.

Not creepy at all. Sure enough, she had a new entry to her contacts list when she checked— _My prince_ —but it wasn’t Loki she needed to call. With a mental note to change the contact name to something more appropriate later ( _Royal pain in the ass_ ), she dialled the one person who might be able to actually help her with the legal side of things.

“Pepper Potts.”

“Is there any time limit on getting an annulment? Asking for a friend.”

Darcy could practically taste Pepper’s confusion over the phone line, before she responded with a sharp question. “What did Tony do?”

“No, this wasn’t Tony. Promise.” She was surprised news hadn’t already reached Pepper, since everyone at this end knew.

Pepper went silent for a moment. “There is no friend, is there?”

“Uh, no.”

“I’m not a lawyer but I’ve had to look into annulment rules in the past…for a friend.” Tony, obviously. Darcy thanked her lucky stars that he’d made some stupid decisions of his own. “Nevada’s are pretty easy to work with, as they go. I don’t recall anything about a time limit but I’ll have our attorney check.”

“Can you ask if I can force it through if he doesn’t agree?”

“Sure. May I ask who..?”

“Maybe when I’ve had the bad news.”

Pepper rang off and took twenty minutes to call back. Darcy used that time to fret. There was a real possibility she was in way, way over her head. Asgardian politics had always sounded impossibly complicated and antiquated to her, and she couldn’t have picked a worse person to accidentally marry. Something told her Loki would not take rejection well. “There’s no time limit, but you do need mutual agreement unless you can prove the other party misled you in a way that would render the marriage void. You can push a divorce through, but that costs more, and the price only increases if the other party contests it.”

“Crap.” They’d both been equally drunk and she knew up-front about Loki’s worst bits, so she couldn’t claim he’d misled her. Her student loans were taking a significant chunk of out her pay check, which meant lawyer’s fees were out of the question.

“Darcy…I also spoke to Tony.” Pepper’s tone wasn’t judging in the slightest, but it didn’t stop Darcy from wanting to curl up and disappear.

“So you know. You know, _who_.”

“We do. Stark Enterprises would be completely willing to pay for—”

“Pepper, no. I’m a big girl. I have to sort out my own mistakes.” As much as she wanted to blame this on Tony, it was down to her own drunken idiocy. Neither was she a charity case. There was a way to get the annulment she wanted, and she’d just have to earn it the hard way.

“We could set up a fund. It’s not like we’d notice the money.”

 _Idiot girl. You can’t do anything right_. Her mother’s voice rang in her head. _Always expecting me to fix things._

“No, I’m good.”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t pry so much, but this is Loki. He’s—”

“Terrifying? Yeah.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that is not a good ingredient in a marriage.”

“It’s not a marriage. Anyway, it’ll be over soon. We’re just going to have a little trial period and then he’s going to sign the paper’s. It’ll be fine.”

She wasn’t sure how Pepper managed to emote pure worry in silence. “You can call me at any time…”

“I know, I know. Gotta go. I really appreciate this.”

She hung up before Pepper could guilt-trip her into accepting them paying for a divorce, then rang Loki’s number. He didn’t answer, but when she turned around he was lurking behind her again. He smirked at her little yip of fright.

“You have to stop doing that,” she said.

“I don’t have to do anything. Do you have a response for me?”

“Yes,” she said, with a dramatic sigh. “I agree to your bargain.”

“Excellent.” He radiated smugness. It was already his most annoying trait and was grounds for divorce by itself. “You’ll find things generally go better when people do as I wish.”

“It’s only for four weeks. I want it written down and signing.” _In blood._

“No need, we can make an agreement before a witness and it shall be equally as binding. Thor will suffice. It’s not as though we’ll be referring to the terms again, not when I’ve won you over.”

Darcy made a non-committal noise in response. He sounded so sure of himself, but she doubted he’d ever had to actually ‘court’ someone in his life. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, and he was the god of many things, but not charm. All she had to do was remember that.

“Trust me, Ms Lewis, we’ll all get what we want in the end.”

“See! Even you’re still addressing me under my real name.”

“I believe Ms is used for women of ambiguous marital status, and the Aesir use patronyms rather than family names, so you couldn’t take my name. Of course, Ms Lewis remains rather formal considering how well acquainted we’ve now become, and I shall take the opportunity to begin referring to you more familiarly now.”

“Huh?”

“Darcy. Is that your preference? Or shall I scour your mother tongue for the sweetest endearments available?”

“Darcy is fine.”

“Then, Darcy, I shall leave to arrange our living quarters for when we return to New York.”

“Living quarters—you mean, living _together_?”

“Of course. What kind of marriage would it be if we lived apart?”

“But that wasn’t…that’s a completely different…get back here!” He’d already vanished, leaving her with the nagging feeling that she’d made a very stupid decision indeed.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See! I can update on a regular basis!

“Ah, New York, New York.” Tony stood at the top of the jet’s exit stairs, casting his arms wide at the vista of Manhattan in the distance.

“Please don’t start singing,” Darcy replied. She squinted at the smudge of green hanging high above the city. “It’s gorgeous. Poisonous gas clouds and all.”

“It’s really cleared up,” he said brightly. “Another couple of days and Bruce’ll have got rid of all of it. Take that, Thanos.”

“Could we move this along?” Clint asked from behind them. “We all want to get off and some of us are getting a crick in our necks.” He pointed to Thor and Steve, stooping in the confines of the cabin.

When Tony finally let them pass down to the asphalt, Darcy had to admit it felt good to be back in New York, even if it still didn’t properly feel like home to her. Leaving Vegas was like waking up from a very surreal dream. She’d managed to nap for most of the flight, ignoring all the questions about where Loki had vanished to. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her room the day before, and right now she didn’t care where he was. She was going back to her apartment, getting in the tiny tub and soaking until she turned pruney.

A helicopter waited off to one side of the runway, waiting to whisk Tony back off to Stark Tower. Darcy was going to have to make her own way, but at least being on the bus would get her away from the knowing looks and raised eyebrows of the SHIELD personnel she knew less well.

“Darcy?” Jane yelled, and Darcy turned to find her waiting beside a cab, dwarfed by Thor. “You coming?”

“I don’t think we’ll all fit,” she replied, pointing to the pair’s luggage. Jane waved her over and Darcy sighed, trudging over in resignation.

“Come on, Thor will sit up front and we’ll all get in.”

“You live on the opposite side of Manhattan.” Darcy wasn’t even sure why she was arguing, except that maybe she’d had her fill of Thor for an entire year and wasn’t looking forward to being crammed into a car with him.

“You must ride with us,” Thor insisted. “You’re family now, and it is my responsibility to assist you when my brother’s chivalry fails him. He should be here now, arranging your transport, but he is not. It is the only way to uphold our family honor.”

Sometimes, Darcy thought Thor was getting wise to the ways of Earth, and played up his Asgardian sensibilities to get what he wanted. Now was one of those times. She couldn’t prove anything though, and it was probably her natural cynicism kicking in. All she could do was go along, lest Thor feel he had to go to even more extravagant means to repair the honour.

She’d just used lest in a sentence. That was another strike against Loki. Never mind invading her bed, he needing to stop invading her vocabulary.

“Alright, alright, but I’m paying my share of the fare. And you keep the big news quiet. I don’t want the driver telling the whole of New York I accidentally got married.” She winced at her own slip, but the windows were rolled up and he was blasting Russian hip-hop.

Thor had already tossed her case into the trunk.

The ride home was more subdued than she’d expected, even if it was guaranteed the driver had figured out who Thor was. He kept glancing over his shoulder as if trying to work out which of them was Natasha. Thor prattled at length about Vegas, while Jane kept glancing between the shiny diamond ring on her own finger and Thor. Things seemed tense between them, and only now did Darcy realise that offering her a ride home meant they’d get to use her as a buffer too.

Darcy’s apartment was first, and she’d retrieved her own case before Thor could even extract himself from the seatbelt. She waved goodbye and hurried inside the building, relieved to have real peace for the first time in four days. She’d never thought the ride in the rickety old elevator would be so missed, that she’d be looking forward so much to her tiny studio, but she was. She’d have her bed back--the mattress she’d spent an entire month’s salary on--and her secret stash of candy. She could slob around in pyjamas and, joy of joys, take her bra off.

There were serious problems in her life when she was ready to weep tears of joy just unlocking her own front door.

Her first clue that something was seriously awry was when she dropped her keys onto the little table inside the door, and the table wasn’t there. Nor was the armchair she slung her purse over. They both hit the floor, the sound echoing round the empty room.

“What. The. Fuck?”

Gone. Everything gone. All her furniture, all her possessions, all her freaking scatter cushions and oversized t-shirts. Nothing left behind but dust bunnies. This was not the work of burglars.

She slammed the door shut behind her, leaned against it, and took a deep breath.

“LOKI!”

* * *

Wisely, for someone so unbelievably stupid at times, Loki did not come right away. He was probably waiting for her anger to cool, but it only spiked every time she encountered a new problem. First, he’d taken the toilet paper. Second, he’d taken her phone charger, and her battery was ominously low. She’d had to rummage through her case, spilling dirty clothes out over the floor to find her spare. Third, and most heinously, he’d taken her candy stash.

When he arrived, he came bearing chocolate.

He announced his presence with a polite throat-clearing, stopping her as she paced a hole in the carpet.

“Where have you been, and where is my stuff?” she demanded. A tiny voice in the back of her head pointed out that she was standing with her hands on her hips, just like her mother did when she scolded Darcy, but she squelched the voice down. Hands-on-hips was the least he deserved.

“My apologies. I have had matters to attend to, and they distracted me from being here to greet you. Godiva?”

She ignored the box. He hadn’t even bothered to get the really fancy artisan stuff. “Really? What kind of matters?”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge that. I do hope that in time we will develop the kind of relationship where confidences may be shared, but at this time...”

“Oh, spare it.” He was bullshitting, and she knew it. “What the hell did you do with my things?”

“I have moved them.”

“I guessed that! Where to?”

“Our new dwelling.”

Darcy’s hands fell from her hips, and she resisted the urge to start massaging her temples instead. Maybe do a Giles-style spectacle-rub, except she didn’t wear them anymore. “You were serious about living together.”

“Of course.”

She’d kind of forgotten about that, since he’d vanished. By forgotten, buried it and refused to think about it, but she’d ignored it all the same. Loki did not strike her as the kind of person to clean up after himself, and ‘dwelling’ didn’t sound too promising.

“Look, I don’t want to live in your Bat Cave. I like this place, despite the size. It’s comfy, it’s easy to keep clean, and the rent’s decent.”

“I believe you’ll like the abode I’ve secured for us even more. It’s not a cave--far from it--and you need no longer concern yourself with either upkeep or expense.”

“I don’t need looking after, and I can pay my own way, so no thanks.”

“Just come view it. If you decide, after all, that you wish to remain here--” Loki glanced around the room and put a seriously concentrated amount of contempt into his expression “--then I will return your belongings.”

“You like making deals, don’t you?”

His answering smile was decidedly wolfish. “One of my many attributions is as god of gambling, is it not?”

* * *

Darcy left her case behind, so he didn’t get the wrong idea. There was no amount of shiny he could dazzle her with to persuade her that living with him was not the worst idea in the history of the universe.

She clung to that idea as the cab left the tenements of her neighborhood behind, swept all the way up to the Upper East side and stopped outside a fancy Beaux-Arts building overlooking Central Park. Neither did she let it go as they entered that building, greeted by a doorman and suited, white-gloved elevator operator. She refused to abandon it even as the elevator doors opened onto the top floor, with nowhere to go but the penthouse.

“I can’t believe Jane sold me out like this,” she grumbled as Loki pushed the apartment door open with a flourish, gesturing for her to enter before him. She had to bite her fist to stop from squealing out loud as she stepped inside, to a huge living space even Tony Stark couldn’t moan about. Rather than the spark modernity of Stark Tower, it was lushly furnished in Art Deco style—scratch that, it was probably all antique—and the wall of windows gave sweeping views over the park.

“Alas, Jane is still rather tightlipped around me, although I’m happy to report she’s more forthcoming with Thor.” So that’s how Loki knew what her dream home looked like.

“You shouldn’t get him to do your dirty work.”

“I fail to see what’s ‘dirty’ about any of this. I wished to delight you, and I can already tell I have succeeded, despite your outer reticence.”

“Don’t get too smug just yet. I haven’t seen all of it, and if you think that view earns you a place in my bed—”

“There are two bedchambers. I have taken the master room, since I intend for this to be my main residence on Midgard, but there is an ample guest room where your belongings are waiting for you.”

She scampered off, down the hallway that opened off from the living room, knowing without asking the door with the gilded horns painted on was not hers and out of bounds. Her room was at the very end, still overlooking the park though through a much smaller window. “This is not my stuff,” she yelled, though it was hard to be mad when there was an actual four-poster bed. It was definitely better than her stuff. Her clothes were hung up in the wardrobe, her toiletries were in the en suite (which was roughly the size of her old bedroom and featured a _lot_ of marble) and she even seemed to have a little workshop next to the bathroom.

“No, your furniture is in storage,” he replied, having somehow slunk up behind her without a sound. “This, you must agree, is better.”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip. His voice just _did_ things to her. She needed to focus and not get distracted by the _shiny, shiny, shiny_.

“I never saw this as being your kind of place.”

“What did you envisage instead?”

“Stone walls, stone floor, tons of fur and bottles of nasty potions scattered everywhere.”

“Sounds utterly savage. I’ve been a prince for over a thousand years. My tastes are a little more refined.”

Darcy retreated, back down the hallway and through the living room. It was L-shaped, and on the other side she found the kitchen and dining area.

“Is that a _chandelier?_ Like, a real crystal chandelier?”

“Of course. Venetian glass. If it’s not to your tastes…”

 _Too much shiny. I can’t fight this._ “Alright, you get your month.” She was going to treat it like living in a hotel. One month of luxury and then back to her studio. She’d be sick of it by then, right?

“Excellent. I’ll call Thor to come witness our agreement. Did I mention that we have sole access to a roof terrace? I was considering hiring someone to turn it into a garden—or perhaps installing a sauna—”

~

Thor came and went, the verbal contract a mundane affair, all told. Darcy busied herself afterwards familiarising herself with her new room, finding where Loki (or whoever he’d hired) had put everything. She half expected to find new lingerie in the drawers or diamond jewellery in amongst her battered beads, but he’d apparently restrained himself from doing all the romance novel cliches. Which was good, because if anything was going to send her packing, it was him trying to buy her off with expensive gifts or imply she wasn’t good enough until she was dripping in ice and furs.

She filled the enormous claw-foot tub and tossed in a bath bomb, then followed it in when the water was nicely fizzed up. This room was a cosy little sanctuary. She had no idea what she was going to do for the next month. Hide away in here all the time? She couldn’t avoid him forever, and yet she couldn’t imagine just hanging with him in the living area. He didn’t strike her as the type to watch E! News or eat cereal for dinner. Maybe he’d hired a butler or someone to serve meals. _He’d better not have hired a butler._

What would they even have to talk about? They had jack in common, apart from their work with SHIELD and one drunken night. Now Thanos was defeated, Loki’s alliance with SHIELD was over, and Darcy was back to being a Stark Enterprises employee. He had over a thousand years of life under his belt, had seen it all, done it all… There was nothing she could say to interest him.

That was the beginning of a plan. A new, wondrous plan to make Loki realise he didn’t want to be married to her, after all. Nevermind trying to fend off his advances for the next month, she needed to make him see how she was not wife material.

No dressing up. No make-up (although he’d already seen here with the night before’s make-up smeared down her face in Vegas). Watching crappy TV, reading trashy books, listening to the cheesiest music she could stand, and dredging up the most banal conversations she could manage. All Spongebob, all the time. No alcohol, any of the time, just to be on the safe side.

Thank you, _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days._ Sometimes romantic comedies did have the answers after all.

Her happy bubble was interrupted by the crash of a door and stomping feet across the apartment. She leapt out of the bath and grabbed her towel, pissed that they were already being invaded by Loki’s enemies, until the familiar yell rose up.

_“LOKI!”_

What had he done to Thor this time?

  



	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You almost didn't get this, because I forgot it was Monday. It's been a long day.  
> Thank you to everyone who reads, especially if you comment or review, because I suck at replying. There is a reason for this: doing that is a form of procrastination, so I force myself to write first.  
> Also, big thanks to my betas who I often forget to say it to.

By the time Darcy had stumbled her way into sweats and a t-shirt, the argument was in full flow. She was expecting Thor and Loki to be going for it hammer-and-tongs when she burst into the living room. They’d been trading insults for over a minute, increasing in volume and venom, without actually saying anything that would illuminate her on what had led to the confrontation.

She was not expecting to find Jane hovering just inside the front door with a tear-streaked face.

“Jane?” she whispered, reaching out for her friend. Jane burst into tears again, shrinking away. They were very restrained tears, cascading prettily down her cheeks in a way Darcy could never replicate, but her shoulders quaked with the effort to keep quiet.

“What is it?” Darcy tried again, but was distracted by a particularly childish retort from Loki.

“Not everything revolves around you, _little princess_ ,” he spat at Thor, and Darcy squealed as Thor’s fist swung through the air towards Loki’s face. Loki easily sidestepped and Thor only narrowly avoided smashing the dining table. Even without Mjolnir, he was capable of wreaking serious damage.

“If you two are gonna fight, get out of my apartment!” she yelled. Thor turned, realising for the first time she was there. He froze, fists balled at his side and rage simmering beneath his skin. His expression, when he glanced at her, was the least friendly she’d ever encountered from him, resentment bubbling under. It made her glad she’d never faced him in battle.

She turned back to Jane, who was twisting her engagement ring round and round. “Let’s get you some water and then we can all discuss this like rational adults, okay?”

The day Darcy Lewis was the adult in the room was the day the earth ought to stop spinning.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Thor growled. “Not when Loki has seen fit to lay waste to my happiness out of pure spite.”

“Whoa, what?”

“I have done nothing of the sort!”

Darcy looked at Jane, who shrugged. “A messenger just turned up from Asgard…” She had to stop, biting her quivering lip and flicking a venomous glare in Loki’s direction. Venom Darcy would never have expected Jane capable of.

“Wishing you well on your marriage,” Thor filled in, “and bearing Odin’s delight that the alliance between Asgard and Misgard has been sealed symbolically.”

“That’s…bad?”

“It is. My impending marriage to Jane was intended to seal the alliance. Now, I must marry someone from another realm, lest it appear we favour Midgard too heavily. My union with Jane has been forbidden.”

Oh _shit_. Darcy was about ready to claw Loki’s eyes out herself. She couldn’t even find the words to yell at him, just rounded on him.

“I assure you all, this was never my intention,” he said, all too calmly. “Who am I to predict the schemes of the Allfather?” He paused, then addressed Thor. “And did you honestly believe he had any intention of allowing you to marry her anyway?”

“You are lying,” said Thor.

“Not this time.” Darcy believed him, though she couldn’t say why.

“You have done much to wound me in our lives,” Thor continued. “You have deceived me, you have attacked me, and you have even tried to kill me. But this, I cannot forgive. Until the day you put this right, you will finally have what you have pursued for so long. I renounce you as my brother.”

He stalked away, taking Jane with him.

“Very well,” Loki retorted to his retreating back. On the outside he appeared unruffled. Only the faint crease of his forehead and the thin set of his lips told Darcy that maybe, _maybe_ , he did care about being removed from Thor’s Christmas card list.

With the door shut, she faced him again

“I can’t believe you’d do that to him!” It wasn’t true though—she absolutely _could_ believe it. As Thor had pointed out, he’d done worse in the past.

Loki shrugged. “He was never going to marry her.”

“How dare you! She’s my friend—”

“I’m merely stating the truth. A prince can never separate politics from his personal life. Thor was a fool to believe he could.”

“So you made sure he knew?” He stared at her with those cool, impassive eyes and didn’t bother to respond. “I’m leaving, by the way. Deal’s off. You’re signing those papers, we’re telling everyone this was a prank gone too far, and Thor’s marrying Jane.”

“The deal is not off,” Loki replied. Quietly. Oh so quietly. “It was agreed before a witness. It will run to its conclusion.”

“This is the only way for you to get your brother back!”

“You misconstrue my priorities.”

“Fine. If you won’t sign the papers, we’ll do this the old-fashioned way. See you in court.”

“I promise you we’ll never see the inside of a courtroom. The workings of your legal system are easy to disrupt.” His sharp smile was mostly teeth. “You owe me thirty days, and I shall have them. I have no intention of giving up so easily, _wife of mine_.”

“Oh. I see how it is.” For the first time, she did. This had nothing to do with lust. She had no idea what it was about, but it wasn’t any stirrings he may have felt for her. At least some of his motivations probably stemmed from pure enjoyment of game-playing, and she’d ended up as the other player out of sheer convenience.

“I’m glad.”

He strode over to the dining table, the thin veneer of charm falling back into place. He lifted something and presented it to her: a thick piece of parchment, like the fanciest wedding invitation she’d ever seen. It was edged in gold and written in metallic ink, the lettering not unlike old illuminated manuscripts she’d seen. “This may interest you,” he said.

She took it gingerly, marvelling at the detail in each character.

_Our congratulations on your union. May you be much blessed and your bond unshakeable. This is a truly historic occasion for our two realms, our relationship now sealed and signified by this alliance._

The last part was in a different script, not the careful work of a scribe.

_We extend our warmest welcome to the newest daughter of our realm, and hope she will not take too long in gracing us with her presence._

“That last is from my mother,” Loki told her as she examined the words.

“Oh. Cool.” An intergalactic invitation from a goddess. What a shame she was never actually going to go to Asgard. “What’s that?” She pointed at a small box on the table—a suspiciously jewellery-sized box—her anger at Loki momentarily overridden by curiosity.

“That is a gift from the realm.” He offered it to her, and she frowned at it.

“Is it an expensive gift? I don’t do expensive. I’ll break it or lose it.”

He flipped the lid open, to reveal a rock the size of a quarter nestled in satin. Rock was not an exaggeration. She doubted it was diamond—it seemed to burn too brightly, radiating a brightness without the clarity of a diamond—yet she knew it would be worth more than any stone on Earth. “It is dwarf-mined Heliocore set on a band of elf-smithed gold. It belonged to my mother’s mother and is considered the pride of Vanaheim.”

“You should lock that up somewhere safe.”

“You should wear it. It’s near-indestructible.”

“I’ll wear it when we visit Asgard.” Ha. “Not in New York.”

He came dangerously close to scowling, then shrugged. “As you wish.” Maybe he realised how fine a line he was walking, and that continually pissing her off was not the best way to approach courtship. Maybe.

“How did it actually get here?”

“One of the ravens brought it.”

“Odin’s ravens?”

“Yes. They serve well as messengers, since they are as adept at travelling the Bifrost as any mage.”

A thought occurred to her. “You better not be using me to get back into daddy’s good books.”

“While the marriage does have its advantages, I assure you political gain is not my primary motivation.”

“Well if it’s not that, and it’s not pissing off Thor, then what is? And don’t say it’s because you actually want to be with me.”

“Then I won’t.”

Well. He obviously had no intention of enlightening her, which meant it was something much bigger than she could even guess at. With Loki, it would have to be. One thing was sure—she was in way over her head. Loki had no loyalty to anyone but himself, and when she stopped being useful, the best she could hope for was being abandoned.

At least she had a plan now. A stupid, ridiculous plan that pitted her against the master of manipulation, but worth a try anyway. He thought he could turn the charm on, and she’d fall at his feet. No doubt it usually worked. Trouble was—for him—she was stubborn, and could be tricksy too, when she wanted to be. Let him underestimate her. Let her have a month of luxury, of the fancy apartment and—ick—wooing, and all the charm in his arsenal. Let him think she was falling for it, and be unravelling his scheme in the background. She’d get the truth out of him somehow.

And if she found herself falling for his bullshit? She just needed to think about poor, devastated Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides*


	6. Chapter Six

Whatever Darcy was expecting the next day, it wasn’t facing a naked Loki before breakfast.

Somewhere in the midst of dreams where she got chased by a diamond the size of her head, she realized she had two plans that might just counteract each other. Problem was, they were both vitally important. One, ensure Loki wanted out of the marriage. Two, find out why he wanted the marriage to begin with. Easy peasy. At least if she unraveled the second it might give her the ammunition she needed for the first.

It meant she needed to let him think he was seducing her while doing everything in her power to repulse him. However, given the events of the night before, she couldn’t appear to fall for him too easily. That’d be suspicious. She needed to continue to act like she thought he was a giant tool—hey, that wasn’t acting—and let him win her over with whatever empty, overblown gesture he decided to make to ‘apologize’.

Step one was to stop shaving her legs immediately, although the perverse laws of the universe usually increased her chances of getting laid when that happened. She briefly considered skipping her morning shower altogether, but she’d only make herself miserable. Besides, Loki knew she wasn’t a complete slob. She needed to make him think he was seeing the real her, and this was the way she acted with loved ones.

When dry, she put on sweats that didn’t cling in any of the right places and a t-shirt to match. If she was sulking, she needed to do her best to avoid him, so breakfast was going to be whatever she could forage for in thirty seconds. If he was around, she was drinking juice straight from the carton, her every instinct be damned.

The kitchen seemed to be empty, as did the rest of the main living area. Either he was out or, more likely, still in bed. He didn’t strike her as a morning person. She made a bowl of cereal and grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator. It was one of those massive floor-to-ceiling ones she’d only ever seen on _Cribs_ , and she could have fit in it herself if it hadn’t been full of food.

When she shut the door, Loki was behind it. Completely naked.

“Shit!” She dropped the soda and took an involuntary step back, whirling around and grabbing for a dishtowel. She flung it at him. “Cover up—you can’t just going walking round like…that!”

He smirked. If Darcy ever met a genie or a real fairy, she was going to wish he could never smirk again. When he did, it always meant he was laughing at her—or someone else’s—expense. “Whyever not? The temperature is perfectly pleasant.”

“Because people with eyes are here!”

“Only you, my sweet, and you’ve seen it all before. You’ve done more than see it.”

Since he had absolutely no inclination of covering himself, shutting up, or going away, she decided to beat a hasty retreat. She bent to grab the soda can from the floor and realized it put her at…the wrong height. She abandoned that idea and swerved around him, clutching her cereal bowl. “Don’t disturb me today. I’ve got tons to do,” she called back over her shoulder.

“You aren’t going to Stark Tower?”

“No, I’m working from home. Problem?”

For a moment, it seemed like it might be, but only for a moment. “Not at all. I’m delighted to have more of your presence.”

“Like I said—don’t disturb me.”

“Is that why you aren’t dressed?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m dressed. What do you think I wear at home?” And she left him to process that thought.

* * *

Their little encounter had left Darcy completely unable to concentrate. She’d been sat at the laptop in her workshop, on a comfy-yet-ergonomic-yet-insane-looking chair, trying to complete calculations on the machine her team were working on, but her mind kept drifting back to Loki. Mini Loki had made a few cameos too.

He hadn’t anticipated that she’d be in the apartment today, and that meant something. It was why she didn’t have her earbuds in, for once. She was trying to listen out for signs of movement. Was he going to go out himself? She certainly didn’t expect him to stay in all day. Besides, he could just _poof_ off to wherever he wanted to be, and she’d be none the wiser. Was he planning to hold a meeting for the Supervillains’ Council at their— _his—_ dining table? Unlikely, since if there were any other villains the Avengers hadn’t finished off between them, Loki would be _persona non-grata_ for working with them.

Was he planning on throwing a Zumba video on? Singing show tunes in the living room? Inviting another woman over?

Trying to think of Loki’s motives was fruitless. His mind was the kind of labyrinth the Goblin King would be proud of, and her best hope was to stay out of it.

After three wasted hours, she sent a text to Jane.

_Do you need to talk? Because I need to eat._

It wasn’t as tactful as it could’ve been, but there was no point dancing around contacting Jane. They needed to clear the air, and Jane needed someone who wasn’t Thor she could unburden on.

The reply came through within ten minutes. _Usual place? Meet you there._

Their usual place was a cafe in Midtown, not too far from Stark Tower. Darcy hurriedly changed into something more presentable and dashed out.

“I thought you were staying in today?” asked Loki, materializing behind her (literally or not, she couldn’t be sure) as she opened the front door. Thankfully, this time he was clothed, albeit in the casual version of his full Asgardian regalia. It consisted of leather pants and a linen tunic, still too fancy for Darcy to consider it daywear.

“Well, now I’m going out.” No point lying to him, since he’d know she was doing it.

“You’d better take a key with you then.” He dangled one from between his fingertips. She reached up to snatch it away, but he moved it just out of reach.

“Perhaps dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know what time I’ll be back—”

“I can wait.”

“Fine. _One_ course.” He handed the key over and she stomped away without glancing back, releasing her breath in a gust of exasperation when she got into the elevator.

She could text him later and blow him off, but if she wanted her plan to work she needed to give him the chance to make amends. Grudgingly. She’d get home late and act pissed off when he inevitably wheedled her into sticking to the agreement.

Just in case he was following, she headed to Stark Tower, hid in the ladies’ bathroom on the first floor for five minutes, then snuck back out. She didn’t want him overhearing anything she’d be talking about with Jane.

Jane was already seated when Darcy arrived, and was slumped in a booth in the far corner. The sunny weather meant most other customers had chosen tables next to the window or on the sidewalk, so Jane had opted for privacy.

“That is a lot of coffee you have there,” Darcy said, pointing at the head-sized mug Jane was nursing.

“I didn’t sleep much last night.”

Darcy could believe it. Jane’s eyes were an unenviable combination of shadowed and puffy—from the tears, most likely. A pair of shades lay discarded on the table, testament to how Jane had made it across Manhattan without attracting too much attention.

Darcy ordered a soda and they both picked something to eat. “Have you spoken to Thor much?”

Jane poked at her salad morosely. “I’ve tried. He talked a lot, but I don’t think I could really call it a conversation.”

“How is he today?”

She shrugged, a tiny, defeated twitch of her shoulders. “He’s trying to make contact with Odin. He wants to persuade him to change his mind, but…” She sighed. “It’s not going to work, is it?”

Darcy had never met Odin, but his reputation preceded him. The most stubborn man to ever stubborn, managing to out-stubborn even his pig-headed sons. “If Thor’s doing the asking? No. He’ll approach it the wrong way.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean _us._ Loki was right.”

“Nuh-uh. Don’t say things like that. He’s trying to get under Thor’s skin—it’s like a reflex for him. Besides…I have a plan.”

Jane took a half-hearted bite of her bagel and didn’t ask about the plan. Darcy told her anyway.

“So I’ll know what he’s up to,” she finished with, “and Thor can tell Odin, get the marriage annulled, and we all win. Except Loki, who should never win because it upsets the delicate balance of the universe.”

“I don’t know,” said Jane. “I think you have to be really good to manipulate Loki. My dad always said ‘You can’t kid a kidder’.”

“But that’s why he won’t expect it. It’s like a double bluff—he knows I won’t try to plot against him because there’s no way I could do it well, but I really am because he thinks I won’t.”

For the first time in the conversation, Jane made proper eye contact. “Loki is dangerous. You can’t forget that. However much he pretends he’s reformed, if he has to stomp all over you to get what he wants he will.”

“Believe me, I know. I’m not the airhead he thinks I am.”

“Please be careful. Don’t do anything that will give him a reason to hurt you, or get involved with anything you can’t handle.”

“Too late. Waaaaay too late.”

* * *

She dragged out lunch as long as she could, letting Jane say everything she’d tried and failed to with Thor. That still only took another hour or so, so Darcy either had to head into Stark Tower and do some actual work, or go back to the apartment. She didn’t have enough cash on her for anything else.

If she was sneaky enough, maybe she’d catch Loki doing whatever he didn’t want her to know about. If it was rhythmic gymnastics, a quick cell phone video and the threat of YouTube would be her ticket out of wedded bliss.

When she reached their apartment building, she took the elevator to the floor below theirs, then tiptoed up the stairs to the penthouse. The carpet swallowed the sounds made by her sneakered feet, hopefully enough that even the God of the Sneaky wouldn’t hear her. She held her breath inserting her key in the lock, glad it made only the faintest snick, and pushed the door wide open.

Silence rang out, but she crept further in anyway, down the hallway to peer round the corner into the living area. No Loki.

“Loki?” she called out. No reply.

It seemed like he really had wanted to go out. But why had he wanted her gone for that? It’s not like she would have bothered asking where he was going—because she wouldn’t have expected an answer. Not an honest one, anyway.

She slammed the apartment door for good measure and finally retrieved the soda can from where it had been sitting on the kitchen floor for hours. It was warm, so she swapped it for a cold one, and realized that meant Loki wasn’t the picking-up-after-himself type. Nothing less than she’d expected, but she really hoped he didn’t think a Midgardian bride was basically a live-in housekeeper.

With him out of the picture she had her first opportunity to explore the place without having to put up with his presence. Besides what she’d already seen, there was another guest room, a laundry room—a nice change from slogging her laundry down to the basement—and a private staircase up to the roof. The final doors before the stairs led to a master bathroom, which featured a miniature swimming pool masquerading as a bath, and the master suite.

She almost backed out of venturing in. First, there was every chance she’d find him sprawled out on the bed, naked as the day once again, in some kind of coma from overexposure to sunlight. Second, he’d probably booby-trapped the room against invaders.

Nosiness won out over caution, although she did retrieve a wooden broom from the utility room. Wood didn’t conduct electricity, so she hoped the same principle applied to magic. Electricity was just a kind of energy and the way Thor had once explained it, magic was a means of manipulating energy from the space around them. There had to be similarities.

She used the far end of the broom to knock the door handle down and pushed hard enough for it to swing open. Then she tossed an apple from the kitchen inside.

No explosions. When she peaked, the apple looked whole and well.

While her caution was well-placed, it turned out there was a reason Loki hadn’t even bothered to put a normal lock on the door. Though the room was spectacular, it also seemed the least likely place to hide secrets in the whole apartment.

The bed looked like two superkings had been welded together, and the mattress was deep enough she’d need a step to get up there. Not that she was planning on getting up there at any point. Her first instinct was that the sheeny, shiny sheets were satin, but given this was Loki, they had to be real silk, with lush cotton layers too. Everything was neat and orderly, even the bed linen folded precisely as if a maid had been in to do it. There was little in the way of furniture, except for the mahogany bookshelves lining the walls. She crept over, hoping for mysterious grimoires, but instead found the kind of boring books she could have picked up in any B&N. Favored topics included science, politics, and literary novels the size of bricks. Nothing even vaguely occulty.

He had a closet, but it seemed to be a feature of the apartment, rather than something he actually used. The only thing he kept in there were designer suits and accessories—the kind of thing he wore when he wanted to blend in. She had no idea where he kept his Asgardian fetishwear. Or his underwear.

The bathroom was surprisingly understated, if gilt could be understated. It lacked a tub but one entire wall was taken up by a row of showerheads, the floor-to-ceiling tiling turning it into one big shower. You could fit an entire football team in there. Or all the Avengers. Maybe if she wished really hard when she blew out the candles on her next birthday cake…

But nowhere to hide evidence of any nefarious schemes.

She had to face it. Loki wasn’t going to leave anything where she could find it. Unless he’d somehow left a code in paperback editions of _Doctor Zhivago_ and _Les Miserables_ —and if he had, she didn’t have the patience to search for it—then he’d been smart enough to keep his schemes elsewhere, or in his head.

Maybe he really did have a Batcave somewhere, the same place he kept his clothes, but even Darcy’s nosiness couldn’t make her brave enough to search for that.

She crossed back to the bed and gave the mattress an experimental poke. Nice and firm, but not rigid. The sheets would feel lovely against her skin. Maybe she could steal one under the pretense of doing laundry.

No. That was a bad precedent to set.

From this angle, she thought she saw something glimmer out of the corner of her eye—something on one of the bookshelves. She turned, intending to go investigate, but was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

“Making yourself at home?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mischief Monday :).

There was no point acting like she wasn’t embarrassed at being caught. Between that and suspicious, embarrassment was the better option to go with. She didn’t even try to fight the blush—not that it ever worked—and snatched her hand away from the bed like she’d just touched her own taser.

“What?” she asked, at a pitch even she cringed from. “It’s a nice bed. I was just exploring the apartment!”

Something flickered in his eyes, a moment of doubt and suspicion. She needed to go method. She dredged up a memory—much-suppressed—of her mother opening her bedside table drawer to find Darcy’s battery-operated-boyfriend. Darcy had been in the room and too slow to stop it happening.

Apparently her relived-mortification was enough to convince Loki. He switched to tentative seduction.

“If you had but asked, I would have gladly given you the proper showing.”

“After yesterday, the last thing I needed was you and your innuendo.” She stepped away so she was in the middle of the room, her back to the bookshelf. She’d just have to come back and investigate later.

“You are of course perfectly welcome to admire the bed. What’s mine is yours.”

 _Yeah, right. Mine to clean_. “I have a bed. It’s awesome.” She stomped across the room and he stepped aside, but she still had to brush against him to pass by.

“Dinner will be served at seven.”

“Is it mac and cheese balanced on our knees while we watch _Kitchen Nightmares?_ ”

“Of course not. The dress code where we’re dining is quite exclusive.”

She gave her best I-don’t-want-to-do-this grimace. “Then I’m shit outta luck. I don’t own anything you can wear to those kinds of places. And don’t you go magicking any Dior into my closet.”

“Nonsense. I have seen you in no less than three dresses you’ve worn to events at Stark Tower which are entirely appropriate for the occasion.”

Ugh. She’d have to wear the special bra. The one that fit under those dresses but made her boobs scream for mercy.

“Remember—I told you, one course. And _no candlelight_.”

Being this grouchy with him was fun, when she thought about it. And perfectly natural.

* * *

She didn’t emerge from her room until a quarter after seven, just because she could. He could magic them to wherever they were eating, so traffic wouldn’t be an issue, and no host in the world would dare tell Loki he’d lost his reservation due to tardiness.

Since she was actually going to be seen in public, she did put some effort in, though she was careful not to do too much. The dress was the one that showed the least cleavage, purple velvet that could tip towards upmarket hippy or Oscar-bait depending on the accessories. Heels were a necessity, so she didn’t feel like a midget next to Loki, and though she left her hair down, she did put on enough make-up and jewelry that she wouldn’t be crushed if her photo was taken.

The apartment was dark, and for a moment she wondered if he’d decided to go and eat without her. That kind of behavior would not have surprised her, but it wouldn’t have helped with her plan in the least. She crossed to the front door but was distracted by a flicker of light down the hallway, to the other exit. The door that led to the rooftop was propped open and the stairs were lined with flickering lights. At first she thought they were candles, annoyed that he’d gone against her direct request to not use them, but up close they appeared to be tiny, floating balls of pure light that jittered as she moved past.

Loki was still nowhere to be found, but it was obvious she was supposed to follow the trail he’d left. She hitched her skirt and climbed the steps, grumbling under her breath that she’d got all dressed up to go and sit on the roof. That same breath left her in a gust as she saw what awaited her.

All around her were the same little lights, strewn like oversized glitter, and planters filled most of the space, giant lilies and dense foliage covering much of the concrete. A path had been left to an intimately set table, against the dramatic backdrop of Central Park below. Loki waited by the table in a black, immaculately-tailored suit, his expression serene.

“This is cheating,” she said as she approached the table, indicating the fairy lights masquerading as candles. It came out softer than she intended, more awed than annoyed.

“Would you expect any less of me?” He handed her one of the lilies, its white head the size of her hand, and pulled her chair out for her. She sat, graciously, figuring it was rude to be churlish when he’d gone to this much effort. A scroll of paper lay across her place mat, and she lifted it to discover a menu. “While your terms were for one course only, you did not specify which. I thought I would cater for your every mood.”

Darcy’s immediate thought was to pick dessert, but the options gave her pause. He’d somehow managed to pick out things she couldn’t resist. “Can I change my mind?”

“Of course.” To his credit, he kept his glee muted.

“It’s not you, it’s the food.” Was that the right amount of grudging?

“Then I shall not delay us.” He clapped his hands, and their starters appeared out of nowhere.

She muffled a surprised curse and picked up her soup spoon. “Did you cook this?”

“By the Nine, no.” She wasn’t sure whether that was a declaration of how bad his cooking was, or disgust at the thought of stooping to such a task. “These have been prepared by a restaurant with an excellent reputation…for this realm.”

They ate in silence, and Darcy took the opportunity to enjoy the view. It was the perfect weather to be up here, the day long enough that the sun had yet to set, and a chill had yet to fall. Somewhere in the middle of her entree the silence became awkward. She racked her brains for a conversation starter, but came up empty. Pop culture went straight over Loki’s head at the best of times.

“You’re quiet this evening,” he finally said.

“We don’t have much to talk about.”

“I see.” He mused on this for a few moments. “Are you aware that humans and Aesir are biologically incompatible?”

Darcy just about choked on the glug of wine she’d taken. “Ass-what?”

“Aesir. The race that dwell on Asgard. Thor’s kin.”

“Dude, I used to share an apartment with Jane. She and Thor didn’t seem to have any problems with biology.”

“That is not my meaning. Your two species may complete the act of reproduction, but not actually reproduce.”

“Oh. So they can’t have kids?”

“No. Their union would be quite barren. Are you aware of how hereditary monarchies work?”

She put the glass down before the urge to throw the wine in his face became overwhelming. “I know what the word hereditary means.”

“My apologies. Of course you do. My point is that someone who is going to ascend the throne of such a monarchy one day cannot enter a union they know will result in the termination of their lineage. Yet Thor intended to do exactly that.”

“They could’ve adopted.”

“I’m sure that was the plan…once it became apparent to your friend that no child of their own was forthcoming. Asgard’s last disastrous foray into adoption would not have deterred Thor.” He raised his glass in a self-deprecating toast.

“No, he’d tell Jane before they got married.” Probably. It made sense that Thor would have told Jane already, right? Jane hadn’t said anything, but maybe she was totally cool with adoption. She’d never expressed any great desire to have kids.

“Oh, naturally. I’m afraid it is the Allfather who would be the fly in the ointment. He couldn’t allow his fledgling dynasty to founder so quickly.”

“Huh. So now you’re trying to tell me this whole thing was you looking out for Jane?”

“I would pretend no such altruism. Nevertheless, the good doctor has been saved from bitter disappointment.”

“This is all well and good, but I still don’t believe you.”

“I’d be terribly disappointed if you did.”

“First of all, there are a ton of myths where Norse gods had kids with humans.”

“Exactly. Mere myths. This is a truth; a simple fact of biology. Were you to examine the DNA of the two species, any scientist would be able to verify it.”

“Second, nobody seems to be up in arms about us getting married, and the same applies to us.”

“Odin does not care whether I reproduce or not—neither myself nor my progeny will ever sit on the throne of Asgard. I am freed from the burden of producing a suitable heir.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at the “suitable” bit. “I’ll have you know that my family produce very cute babies, as good as any royal family in this universe. Besides—you’re a jerk!” He flinched at the knife she jabbed in his general direction. “You basically just admitted you’ve tricked me into the kind of marriage you ‘saved’ Jane from—what if I wanted kids?”

“I am not Aesir. Our species are entirely compatible—it is a matter of historical record. I will need to enhance your strength and stamina, of course, to allow you to carry our children, but such a thing is simple.”

“What? No way—I’ve heard how your children turn out. Giant serpent, werewolf, or a kid whose guts get turned into rope. I don’t think so. You’re getting ahead of yourself again.”

He gave a cool shrug. “Children do not make a marriage, but if they will make you happy, you shall have them.”

“I still think you’re full of shit. Nobody said a word against Thor and Jane getting engaged. They got a parchment-telegram thingy just like we did, so don’t try making out like we’re special.”

“Funny. I don’t remember Frigga sending the pride of Vanaheim—or any heirloom—to Jane. If you want proof to my words, you need look no further.”

She had no response to that. Maybe Jane had received a similar gift, but kept it quiet. Jane wasn’t the showy type. Then again, she tended to tell Darcy everything, even the bits she didn’t want to hear.

Dessert appeared, and silence reigned again. The sun began to tip below the horizon, casting tangerine highlights over everything. She licked her spoon thoroughly before dropping it onto the plate, and glanced up to catch Loki watching her hungrily.

It was not a hunger for food.

She squirmed, breaking his gaze, and realized his hand was mere inches from hers on the table. How long had he been moving closer?

“I must confess,” he said, “in this light, with the sunset gracing you, you are beautiful.” His words, to her surprise, were sincere, though sincerity was always a misnomer with Loki.

“You mean when it’s too dark to see me properly?”

“Not at all. I can see you quite clearly. You should know how difficult it is for me to admit my attraction, given how little regard I hold for your kind.”

“See, I know you’re trying to be charming, but all I hear is a backhanded compliment.”

He chuckled. “If you believe you will chase me away with your stubbornness, I should make you aware that I relish a challenge.” His expression changed, a hint of sensuality settling in. His fingertips brushed against hers.

“This has been great,” she said, cutting off whatever he was going to say next and jumping to her feet. “It’s been a long day and I’ve got another one tomorrow, so I’m heading back indoors.” She was at the stairs before he could even rise, and back in the safety of her room before she heard his footsteps cross the roof above.

Despite the last little burst of adrenaline, she was exhausted. Doing this kind of dance with a master of deception was taxing, and she had no idea how well she was doing. Plus, she was no further forward to uncovering anything. She only had thirty days, and she needed to up her game, because chances were he was going to throw all his knowledge on manipulating women at her over that month. She needed to be ready for anything. What she needed was some way of knowing whether he was telling the truth. Darcy had always been good at reading people—it came with being inherently honest herself—but she didn’t trust her instincts when it came to Loki.

It’d make a better wedding present than the rock she’d been sent. Maybe there was a way to trade it in…

Her musings gave way to sleep, though it didn’t bring her much peace. Loki’s next move, it seemed, was invading her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haz new beta! Yes, that makes four, but I’m greedy. And I make a lot of typos. Round of applause for [Octoberland!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberland/pseuds/octoberland)


	8. Chapter Eight

_“Are you sure?” Loki whispered against her skin._

_“Please, God yes,” Darcy replied, trying to push his hand down to her thighs. He resisted, pulling her tighter against him, his mouth doing wicked things to her collarbone and making her toes curl. She gripped the back of his shirt, digging her nails in through the cotton and trying to grind up against him. It was fruitless; he had her pinned in place, and he was so freaking heavy._

_She made a pathetic noise, like the whimpering of an abandoned kitten, and he snickered. “Patience.” She wriggled again, and that stopped him laughing. He removed his mouth and dragged the neckline of her dress down with his teeth, taking the cup of her bra with it, exposing her to him. Then he feasted like a man denied water, lips and tongue delving everywhere. He knew what he was doing, not neglecting the skin around her nipple but teasing that too, exploring the crease where her breast met her ribcage and beyond. She found the hem of his shirt and scratched bloody paths in his back._

_Soon, his own patience wore thin, and the shirt got thrown aside, her dress dragged down even further so they lay bare torso to bare torso. She captured his lips with her own, twining her hands in his hair and giving a few playful tugs. His response was to roll them over, and it felt like they kept rolling forever, grinding together, until she was on top and they were both naked. Hands everywhere, soft fingertips between her legs, her body tightening up. Not quite there, not quite there… Then the pleasure spilled over, and she sank her teeth into his shoulder while she rode it out on his hand._

_He sucked her ring finger into his mouth, teeth clamping down on the new gold, a mimicry of what was to come next. He caught and held her gaze, mischief and raw lust stealing her breath. She’d only just refilled her lungs when he repeated the trick, this time with a hard drive of his hips up into her._

_Without waiting for her to recover he kept moving, long rolling thrusts; it earned him another bite on the shoulder. She was still so sensitive from the first orgasm that she couldn’t tell if he was really that big or it just felt that way. Probably the first—she released his flesh from between her teeth and began to meet his movements, replacing finesse with enthusiasm._

_Their skin was slick between them, nowhere more than where they were joined, the only sounds in the room the slide of flesh on flesh and their muffled panting. She gathered his hands in hers, repeating the trick he’d performed on her, suckling on his fingers before sliding them down her belly to where she wanted them. He took the hint, circling firmly with his thumb, and she rewarded him by crying out his name as she came again._

_But he still wasn’t done, twisting them over so they were on their sides, her leg over his hips, and he didn’t stop moving for a second…_

The shrill of the alarm tone had her jerking awake, flailing around to find it and smack it silent. Then she lay there, panting like she’d been running and waiting for the blood to decentralize from her between her legs.

Holy crap. She’d come in her sleep.

The dream had been about that night in Vegas, only with fuzzier details. She’d remembered snatches of it before, but dreaming it at that length and that vividly…with that end result. That wasn’t normal, not for her.

“I’m going to kill him,” she muttered to the ceiling. Loki was tormenting her, giving her a repeat performance in her sleep. She needed to put a big “No Entry” sign up on her thoughts, because that was just playing dirty.

Righteous indignation should have carried her like a hurricane into the kitchen, but she barely managed a stumble. The extended play version of the dream meant she wasn’t feeling well-rested at all. Her head was completely fogged over, her brain barely responsive even after espresso.

She wasn’t sure what her reaction would be to Loki if she saw him this morning. Yelling at him was a given. Tears were a possibility, she was that tired. He might also find himself sprawled on the kitchen floor and mounted, especially if he flashed her again. She couldn’t rule anything out, which was why his apparent absence with a blessing. The entire apartment was silent and still.

It made her wonder. What exactly did Loki do nowadays?

Before the trip to Vegas he’d worked alongside SHIELD and Stark Industries to bring down Thanos. Now that threat was gone, he was persona non-grata at SHIELD again, and it wasn’t like he had a job to go to. So if he wasn’t here, where was he? Where had he been when she’d been snooping in his room?

She fired up her computer and sat noodling about with data for a full half hour before opening up YouTube instead. Laughter was the best medicine, so maybe it would cure her of the sleep deprivation. When that plan didn’t work, she sought out even more caffeine in the kitchen.

With her brain finally emulating something like consciousness, she returned to her computer and opened up a few programs Tony had once sent through to her. She was more loyal to him than to SHIELD—after all, they never had returned her iPod—and that meant sometimes he made special requests of her. Special requests like creeping into SHIELD’s servers to check the stuff they were keeping quiet from the Avengers.

SHIELD weren’t her target this time. Her husband (ick) was. She knew he’d taken to modern technology far quicker than Thor had, and he’d used the computers in Stark Industries’ lab alongside the rest of the team without needing much schooling. Her first stop was his email account, which had been abandoned since they returned to New York. She checked he hadn’t added an auto-forwarder, and then pulled up the usage history of the computer he’d always used, checking for other email accounts he could have set up. His internet history was suspiciously clean, the kind of clean that meant he’d either discovered how to cover his tracks, or used a different computer to access the stuff he didn’t want to leave a trace of.

There’d been no computer in his room, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one elsewhere. Perhaps that was what he kept in his secret lair. Until she had at least an IP address, she had no way of getting into it.

Thwarted—for now—she sent an email to Tony.

_You know those itty-bitty cameras you were working on? Can I borrow a few prototypes?_

_Pepper says you need to sign an NDA first. But if you’re going to use them for what I think you’re going to use them for—absolutely._

He emailed over the non-disclosure agreement, Darcy promised not to sell the technology to competitors and digitally signed it. The prototypes arrived by courier a half hour later. He’d sent her a dozen.

They were about the size of the eraser on the end of a pencil, self-adhesive, and self-camouflaging. She stuck them liberally around the apartment—staying out of Loki’s room and bathroom, because that would be creepy—then set up the wireless feed to her computer, setting them up to activate on movement only. At least they’d act as a little extra security for the rock Frigga had sent, wherever Loki had stashed it.

Now she’d done something productive, her mind was free to do her actual job. She logged into the project and managed to fix three snarl-ups the other guys had created that morning, before suggesting a change that sped the whole thing up considerably. She expected a raise and a promotion from Tony this year.

With the real work safely out of the way, she switched back to Loki’s SHIELD-created persona. They’d set him up a social security record and associated identity, so maybe something he’d done under that would give her a clue about what he was up to. She ran a credit check, pulled his bank account transactions, and looked for any addresses related to ‘Luka Senna’. He’d picked the name himself—a bad pun based on the name of an ancient poem written about him.

She nearly keeled over when she saw his bank balance—where had all that money _come_ from?—but the search yielded nothing fruitful. Her next option would to be bug him somehow, to track where he went, but she’d just about reached the limits of how comfortable she was invading privacy. Not that Loki would have had the same reservations if their situations were reversed—especially not since he was invading her head—but she had to keep to her own moral line in the sand, or she was no better than him.

After another bout of work, one that whiled away the afternoon, she was interrupted by a belly rumble that had her foraging in the kitchen for something that she would be ready to eat immediately. As she poked around in the refrigerator, the apartment door slammed shut and Loki wandered into the living room with a paper bag dangling from his wrist.

“I smell Thai food. Is that Thai food?” she said.

“Indeed.” He set the bag down on the counter. “I remembered you enjoyed this when Stark ordered it.”

She pulled the containers from the bag, peeling back the lids to check the contents. “How did you know I wanted jungle curry?”

“It’s what you ordered last time.” He’d got all her favorites, right down to the mini spring rolls and banana fritters for dessert. Sometimes, his attention to detail was uncanny.

The sofa in the living room lacked any surfaces nearby to rest the food on, so she dragged a little table over from a nest in the corner, carrying her food over to it.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He was in the process of opening and closing cupboards—she guessed on the hunt for plates.

“I’m going to eat Thai food,” she replied, fishing cutlery out of a drawer. “I thought that was the point of you buying it.”

“But the table is over there.”

“Who eats takeout at the table?” She plonked herself down and grabbed the remote, turning the TV on. “You ordered cable? Excellent.” After a quick scan of the menu, she turned to a Game of Thrones marathon.

To her surprise, Loki sat down beside her, adjusting the little table so it was between them and placing his food beside hers. He had found a plate which was balanced on his knee, and gingerly placed one of the foil containers on top of it. “Is this a historical record?” he asked, frowning at the men feasting in the great hall of Winterfell.

“No, it’s a story set in a made-up world that kind of looks like Europe in the Middle Ages.”

“I see.” The scene changed. “Were breasts frequently on show in the Middle Ages?”

Darcy nearly choked on a mouthful of spring roll. When she’d managed to swallow, she said, “They take some liberties with the facts.”

“I see,” he repeated. “I fear this show is more to Thor’s liking than to mine.”

“What, suddenly you don’t like boobs?”

“Sweet Darcy, when one has sampled assets as wonderful as yours, all other women are to be found lacking.”

Unfortunately for Loki, his twisted compliment got overshadowed by the reminder it served. “You! You need to stay out of my head!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure there’s a reason for your imperative—”

“You know why. Invading my dreams is just plain creepy and you need to stop doing it.”

“You dreamed of me?” His voice dropped about an octave, becoming something akin to a purr. “Your flustered demeanor suggests the dreams are of a carnal nature.” Keeping with the feline theme, his smile was reminiscent of the cat who got the cream.

“Like you didn’t know.”

“Though I have tried for many years to pierce the veil that keeps me from reading thoughts, it is not a skill I possess. Others’ minds are closed to me. I cannot influence your slumber, and so your dreams are your own.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe me—if I could manipulate your imagination as you insist I can, you would have already ceded your foolish notion of annulment. I would have taken the opportunity to demonstrate to you the many ways I would keep you happy.”

Darcy completely forgot about her curry, staring at Loki open-mouthed while blood burned in her cheeks.

“Tell me about these dreams,” he continued. “Were we on Asgard? Did we lie on silk sheets in my chambers, submerge ourselves in the Crystal Pools? Did I take you before a mirror in my full ceremonial armor? Did we defile Odin’s own throne?”

“No, we…we-uh, we were in Vegas.”

He gave a derisive laugh. “Why, by the Nine, would I go to the trouble of making you dream about me and then seduce you there?” He had a point. “We consummated the marriage in that place. I would seek to show you the universe, not a repeat of what has already happened.”

In a fit of exceptionally bad timing, the guttural moans and groans from the TV underscored his sentence, leaving Darcy with only one option: run away. She didn’t make it far; Loki was in the doorway before she reached it. He held his hands up in a symbol of placation. “I did not mean to upset—I spoke only the truth. Please return and finish the meal. We can speak of more pleasant things.”

Dammit, if only there wasn’t Thai food involved. Darcy’s stomach overruled her common sense, so she followed him back to the sofa, eating in silence while gory things happened on screen.

“These people are fools,” he said when his plate was clear. “They make rash decisions which in reality would lead to all their deaths.”

“It pretty much does in the story, too.”

He perked up. “Really?”

“It’s based on a series of books, you know.”

“I may seek them out.”

She finished her last fritter and laid back, hands on her belly.

Loki sat stiffly beside her, unwilling to sprawl out like she was. He made a lazy wave of his hand, and the empty containers disappeared, then seemed to wait. Possibly for applause. The credits rolled on the screen, and Darcy shifted, ready to disappear back to the safety of her room.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Did you have a pleasant day?” he asked, pulling two glasses of wine out of the ether.

“It was productive, I guess.” She took the offered glass and set it down on the table. “Where were you?” Chances of getting a straight answer from him: zero.

“Exploring the realm. Since I shall be spending plenty of time here, I am familiarizing myself with this city. Perhaps you would accompany tomorrow?”

“I don’t know…I have a lot of work to do—”

“I’ve procured tickets to the Museum of Modern Art. They are displaying the works of a woman called…Okeef.” The way he said the word made it clear he wasn’t sure he’d got it right. “Apparently she’s popular?”

“You got tickets to the special Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition?” she asked. “They are like gold dust. Tony’s been teasing me with them for months.” He’d told her she might earn herself one if the project came in on time and under budget.

“I was unsure if she was to your taste, but I would appreciate your company.”

“Dude, I’m from New Mexico. She’s the only major artist who ever really captured the beauty in that landscape—I love her stuff. Of course I want to go.”

“Excellent. And perhaps dinner?”

“Sure, sure. Look, I need to go make excuses to Tony about why I’m not going to do any work tomorrow. We should leave early, though, to avoid the crowds.”

“I will be ready for the tenth hour.”

“Right. Okay. See you in the morning.”

This was sounding suspiciously like a date, but it fit her plan anyway. A public location was a good option, though—it meant the chances of her keeping her clothes on around him increased by at least 20%. 15% if he wore a suit again. The only downside to the whole thing was going to be staring at six-feet pseudo-vulvas with Loki right there. If nothing else about modern art agreed with him, they surely would.

* * *

“Of all the artwork I’ve seen so far, hers is certainly the most…stimulating.”

They stood in the lobby of MOMA while Darcy fished in her bag for an umbrella. The sky was unleashing holy vengeance on the streets outside. “Stimulating? That’s all you’ve got?”

He’d certainly raised his eyebrows when they reached that portion of O’Keeffe’s output. It had been his favorite section in the whole museum, judging by how long he’d lingered. “I found most of the work hollow and lacking in soul. There is little craft to be found, not like the smiths of Asgard or the masons of old. She, at least, managed to capture an organic beauty.”

She gave up on the umbrella and pulled a face as she led Loki out into the downpour. From nowhere, an umbrella appeared in his hand, covering both of them.

“You aren’t supposed to do that where people can see,” she hissed.

“No one saw,” he replied. “Though you will need to stay close to me to ensure neither of us gets wet.”

“Convenient,” she said sourly. At least he smelled good, like a mintier version of the rolled tobacco her father used to smoke. To her consternation, he had turned up in a suit, and turned heads all during their walk to the museum from the apartment. She’d dreamed about him again last night, despite her best intentions, and this time her alarm had woken her before the big finish. It made maintaining eye contact with him ridiculously intimidating, and also added to her crankiness.

“People only see what they expect to see.” They headed back to the apartment, and she had to link arms with him to avoid drips from the umbrella. A deliberate design flaw, no doubt. What she really needed was for him to disappear when they got home, so she could have some quality time in the bath tub, and get rid of some of her frustration.

He didn’t seem inclined to do the disappearing thing, keeping up the conversation—condescending assessments of the work he’d seen—all the way to their front door, and then he somehow maneuvered Darcy onto the sofa to talk even more.

“I really need to get some work done—”

“I thought you arranged a day off with Stark?”

“If I put in a few hours I won’t have to take it out of my vacation time. It’s—”

Saved by the bell. Her cell rang, and she yanked it out of her pocket, hoping it was Jane or a work colleague calling. Instead, caller ID announced it was her mom. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Hi Mom. Listen, I’m a little busy right now—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” her mother replied. “Don’t try and blow me off. When were you going to tell me you got married?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As ever, thanks to my betas (Jen, Twiggy, Rhi and Lindsay) and to everyone who is reading.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da!

“How do you know?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Darcy realized her mistake. She should have deflected, feigned ignorance. Now she’d confirmed it and had no way of backtracking.

“I know,” her mother replied through gritted teeth, “because a coworker just emailed me a link from a gossip website. What I want to know is why my daughter didn’t bother to tell me herself.”

Darcy had several answers for that one. That it was temporary; that she didn’t want _anyone_ to know; that she was a big enough disappointment anyway so why add this to the list? She also had a few questions of her own, mainly, why was it on a gossip site in the first place?

“Sorry,” she replied in the smallest voice possible. She was relieved to see Loki retreating, giving her space for the call.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? Well that makes it all better! I can stop feeling humiliated and hurt. You know what makes it even worse? You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone. I wasn’t even aware you knew this guy! And that’s the kicker—how could you choose someone like him? How is he even allowed to walk the streets?”

“SHIELD’s fine with him being here—”

“He’s not even human! He destroyed half of New York!”

She needed to calm her mom down before she completely blew a gasket, except she’d never figured out how to do that. “But then he fixed it, saved the world, and saved my life.”

“You don’t just marry a man because he saves your life. Otherwise I’d have married the fireman who cut me out of the car—honestly, what would your father say?”

Darcy had no idea; he’d died when she was seven and hadn’t been around for her teenage years. The picture her mother always painted of him in situations like this, of a man who would be disappointed in Darcy’s every decision, didn’t mesh with her memories of him, but what did she know?

“I’ll tell you what he’d think,” her mother continued, “he’d be glad he wasn’t around to deal with this.”

“There’s nothing to deal with. I’m handling this.”

“And exactly how do you handle the fact that you forgot to invite your own mother to your wedding?”

“It wasn’t a real wedding. I’m getting it sorted, okay? It’ll all be undone within a month.”

“Oh, fantastic! My daughter’s going to be divorced before she turns 25.”

“It’s not divorce, it’s an annulment—it doesn’t count.” There was no way for Darcy to win this.

“It does to me! What am I supposed to tell people?”

“That the website was wrong.”

“So now you want me to lie for you. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to moving to New York, or working with that scientist woman. Look at everything that’s happened. You should have got a teaching degree, then you wouldn’t be fraternizing with lunatics and monsters.”

Darcy wanted to point out she’d be getting paid a lot less too, and bored out of her skull, but that was inviting a whole other lecture. “I’ve got great opportunities for career advancement here, Mom. I’m doing great. This was just a bad decision—I’m not denying that—but I like my life. When I get married for real, you will know, and you will be invited.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better, is it?”

 _Don’t sigh. Don’t sigh out loud._ “It’s all I can say to you.”

“After all I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get.” The line clicked and the dial tone sounded in Darcy’s ear.

“Great,” she mumbled, dropping the phone onto the sofa.

Loki had the manners to make sure his footsteps were loud enough to hear as he returned to the living area.

“Parental problems?”

“Don’t you gloat.” She grabbed a cushion and curled up around it, squashing it tight.

“I am doing no such thing.”

“I guess you heard all of that, huh?”

“Not all of it, no. Though I understand your mother does not find me a suitable match for your hand.”

“Can you blame her?”

He chuckled and folded himself down onto the sofa beside her. Only then did he notice the tears on her cheek. “She upset you,” he observed.

“We know how to push each other’s buttons,” she replied with a shrug, wiping at the tears.

“Still. I don’t like to see it.”

Darcy didn’t know what to do with that information. She’d always assumed other people’s emotions were below Loki’s notice. “She had a point, you know. I should have told her, but I knew she wasn’t going to react well.”

“It is your life, and you owe her nothing.”

“That’s not true. My dad died when I was little, and she had to raise me on her own. There wasn’t a lot of money and it wasn’t what she’d expected her life to turn out like. She just wants better for me.”

“And here I am.”

She rolled her eyes at his ego, but couldn’t help snorting out a chuckle too. “Look, I can talk all this through with Jane. You don’t want to hear it.”

“Then she is still on friendly terms with you?”

“She hasn’t completely cut me off, no.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Careful there. It almost sounds like you care.”

“I’m not an automaton. I am capable of all emotions, even empathy, though I’d prefer it if we kept that as our little secret.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone would believe me.”

Loki’s delighted grin was a touch worrying. “My ends are always my own but sometimes I do the right thing almost inadvertently.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing? Is that what this whole thing is about—making sure Thor can’t marry Jane for the good of Asgard?”

“By the Nine, no. Asgard would not thank me even if I did have their best interest at heart. There is, however, sport to be found in undoing the Allfather’s schemes.”

“A- _ha!_ ” This was brand new information. “You said Odin didn’t want Thor to marry Jane, so you must be talking about some other scheme.”

Loki shrugged. His slip hadn’t been accidental. “You’re no nearer to the answers you seek.” With that, he rose. “We could make a wager. If you can divine which scheme I wish to thwart, I’ll reward you.”

“You get far too excited by wagers.”

He grinned again. “It is my nature. Your ancestors once worshiped me as the god of gambling and fortune, after all. As I say, if you can impress me, you’ll get a prize.”

“Is it signed annulment papers?”

“Nothing in the Nine Realms could persuade me to sign those, bar my losing our previous wager. But name your prize, and I will provide it.”

For a moment, she contemplated all the humiliation she could heap on him: forcing him to make a public apology for all the shit he’d pulled with the invasion, making him the office gopher for a week, or dressing him up as Thor’s personal cheerleader. But if there was anyone who’d deliver her pretty much anything she wanted, it was him, so she really ought to treat herself.

“Which is the prettiest realm? The one with the best scenery?”

“Tempted as I am to say Asgard, my mother’s home of Vanaheim surpasses it in raw beauty.”

“Then if I win, I get a vacation in Vanaheim.” If that didn’t motivate her, nothing would. “Wait…what if I lose?”

“Then you’ll never know.”

* * *

“Yeowch,” said Jane, pouring herself another margarita from the pitcher. “I’m glad I wasn’t having that conversation.”

“Every time I think I can’t screw up more, I prove myself wrong,” Darcy replied, downing the contents of her own glass.

She and Jane were in a Midtown bar for early dinner, at Darcy’s suggestion and Loki’s expense. She’d offloaded the story about her mom’s call to put Jane at ease. Jane was looking less like something the cat had dragged in, and the alcohol was adding a flush to her cheeks.

“But you didn’t mean to hurt her. You just need to do something big to make up for it. Like name one of your children after her.”

Darcy screwed up her nose. “But I don’t want a daughter called Barbara. Or a son, either.”

For the first time in weeks, Jane actually laughed. “Maybe not.” She signaled the server for another pitcher and ordered a tapas spread too. “I dread to think what Thor thinks acceptable kid’s names are.”

Fantastic. Darcy had been planning a fun evening, with minimal discussion of Loki and the whole trainwreck they were involved in. Now Jane had given her the perfect opening to the worst conversation she was ever going to have that didn’t involve telling her mom she was carrying a baby which was actually a giant serpent.

_Jane’s tipsy, and we’re out in the open. It isn’t fair to have this conversation right here and now._

_Coward._

“Yeah, about that,” she said, getting intensely interested in her cuticles. “Has Thor ever actually brought up the topic of children?”

“He talks about children a lot. Volstagg has a pretty big brood from the sounds of it. If you mean us having children, I know he wants them—he’s a big kid so he has a ton of fun around them—and I want them too, so I guess we never really felt the need to sit down and talk about it.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? What does hmm mean?”

Darcy gulped down the last of her margarita, a diversionary tactic that went wrong when she accidentally inhaled some and ended up choking. A crack on the back from Jane and half a glass of water later, and she was ready to answer. Physically, at least.

“Okay, Loki told me this thing, and that means it’s probably complete bull, but you should totally talk to Thor about it anyway, just in case this is the one time this millenium where Loki is actually telling the truth. I mean, it’s pretty unlikely that he is when you think about it, but I feel like I need to get it out there—”

“Darcy, spit it out already.”

“Loki said you and Thor can’t have children.”

Jane blanched, the blood draining from her face as her mouth pressed into a thin line. She stared at her glass for a minute, taking deep breaths, and gradually the color returned, until she was flushed an angry red. “You’re right, it’s bullshit. Loki’s stirring trouble again. I can’t believe he’d put you in this position.”

“Can’t you?”

“Okay, yeah, I absolutely can. I’ll double check with Thor when I get home and text you, but we know he’s got it in for Thor and this is just another one of his petty little lies. The sooner we can get you free of him, the better.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Jane switched the conversation to petty office gossip, steadfastly pretending what they’d just talked about had never happened, and Darcy went back to feeling like the crappiest friend _and_ daughter on Earth.

* * *

“Oh god,” Darcy moaned. “Oh, _Jesus_ …”

She was in the Vegas bed, on the tundra under a night sky. Even the northern lights overhead, ethereal streaks of citrine and electric blue, couldn’t compete with the man between her legs.

Loki lifted his lips from her inner thigh, though his fingers remained in motion. “Wrong god.” His smile indicated he knew exactly what he was doing to her. All she could do was pant in reply—and then he replaced his hand with his mouth—

_Thud thud thud._

She paused mid-writhe to grip his head and pull it closer. “Was that you?”

He raised his eyebrows in question. “I. Do. Need. To. Breathe.” He punctuated each word with a flick of his tongue.

_Thud thud thud._

Darcy opened her eyes, alone in the dark of her room. The thuds continued, somewhere in the apartment, a sound she recognized but couldn’t place in her sleep-addled state. She peered through the gloom at her phone on the nightstand, trying to figure out what hour of the morning it was and waiting for her heartbeat to slow. When the noise stopped, she’d have to quietly get herself off, because there was no was no way she was getting back to sleep without a little relief.

_Thud thud thud._

Shit. The banging. Someone was at the door.

With a snarl, she pushed herself upright, grabbing her robe from the floor and heading out into the hallway.

Everything was dark and still inside, with no indication Loki had heard the knocking, if he was even around. Darcy stomped down to the front door, but gathered enough wits to peer through the spyhole, in case it was someone come to do her harm.

Jane stood on the other side, and even with the way the glass distorted her face, her red eyes and puffy cheeks were obvious.

“You shouldn’t open that,” Loki whispered from behind her, appearing out of nowhere.

She jumped and choked on her own squeal, whirling around to find him a few feet behind her, fully armored up and with a dagger out.

“What the hell?” she stage-whispered back. “Why would someone who came to attack you knock? It’s Jane!”

“Ah.” The dagger vanished and his armor faded away. Darcy’s eyes widened—she’d never seen him use illusion like that outside of battle. Even without all the metal he wasn’t in sleepwear, which begged the question of what he’d been doing at this hour. “I’ll take my leave then.”

“What?” But he was gone, stepping back into the shadows of the living room and when she scuttled after him, he was nowhere to be found. She growled and crossed back to the door, throwing it open while Jane was in mid-knock.

“Sorry it took a while to answer,” Darcy mumbled. “I was asleep.” She ushered Jane inside and shut the door.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize what time it was. I’ve been talking to Thor for hours and I just needed to get away, so I got a cab over and I didn’t think—I should go—”

“No, stay.” She hadn’t meant to make her feel guilty. “You look like you need tea.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Jane admitted. They crossed the living room to the kitchen and Darcy filled the fancy kettle Loki had furnished it with.

“You talked to Thor, huh?”

Jane stared down at the counter, pressing her lips together to hide their wobble, and nodded.

“Loki wasn’t lying?”

This time she shook her head, but the wobble gave way to a full sob.

“Shit.” She shuffled over to Jane to offer a hug. “What did Thor say?”

It took Jane some attempts to get the words out through her tears, and when she did speak it was punctuated by heaved gasps. “That he didn’t know it was so important to me—that he loved me and wanted to be with me whether we can have children or not—that it doesn’t matter. But it does. I know it does. I could tell when he was saying it that it matters. And dammit, it matters to me too, and he never thought to tell me? Then I got mad at him for lying, and he told me he never really lied, he just didn’t tell me everything, so I told him he was sounding a lot like Loki—it was horrible. It all came out, everything he’s ever wanted to say, everything he resents, every little niggle, so I hit back. We were just screaming at each other in the end and I had to get out.”

Darcy resorted to hand pats and shoulder rubs, and the tea was ready to drink by the time Jane had finished talking. “You can stay here as long as you need. There are, like, twelve spare rooms. Loki can probably magic you up a lab too.”

“No, that’s why I can’t stay. Not with him. I need to find somewhere else.”

“Not tonight. Come on, it’s two in the morning. Stay here and I guarantee you won’t even see him. I barely see him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Look, the guest rooms are set up and ready, and in the morning your head will be clearer.”

“That’s if I can sleep at all. I just keep thinking about what he said—what I said.”

“I can’t help you with that, but the tea might.”

When their mugs were empty, Darcy showed Jane to the room next to hers. By the time she flopped back into bed, she realized she might not get back to sleep either. She hadn’t really believed that Loki was telling the truth, and now everything was a million times worse. Maybe it was just an argument, and maybe Thor and Jane could work through the no-children issue, but they were pretty big problems all the same. Their mutual trust was dented, which was going to take a lot of work to repair—and if they decided children was an issue they couldn’t work around, would they even try?

Was this what Loki wanted? Perhaps this was his last attempt at revenge against Thor, despite the appearance of burying the hatchet, and Darcy had been a useful tool to aid the process.

She may have just facilitated the break-up of her best friend and her boyfriend.

* * *

Jane was sound asleep in the morning, so Darcy left a note and headed out to work. Today, in a fit of shitty timing, was the one day she absolutely had to go into Stark Tower, because the project team needed to get together and brainstorm the final stages. Darcy stopped at three Starbucks on the way and was still feeling severely undercaffeinated by the time she arrived.

The day dragged by like a snail on strike, and Darcy’s focus was not in her work. She received a couple of texts from Jane, saying she’d left Loki’s apartment and taken lodgings in Stark Tower itself. On Darcy’s way out of the tower, she found her path blocked by Thor, who looked like he’d had as much sleep as she had.

“Do you know where Jane is?” His downcast expression reminded Darcy why she’d once invested so much in his and Jane’s relationship. Not only because they’d functioned as her entertainment on boring days of Science, but because they’d fit so well together and their happiness spilled out onto everyone around them. Unluckily for her, Thor’s heartbreak had the same effect. “She is refusing to speak with me.”

“Then I can’t tell you.” Jane hadn’t asked her not to, but this felt like one of those things she was supposed to treat as a confidence. “I think you need to give her some space and let her come to you. She’s pretty cut up by what she found out.” In the middle of the night Darcy would have torn a strip off of him for what he’d hidden from Jane, but right now he looked too pathetic to do that to.

“I never meant to—I always intended to tell her, before we were wed. If only Loki hadn’t—”

“Hey, this one is all on you. I guess you didn’t want to tell her and risk losing her, but you can’t blame Loki—or me—for telling the truth. She had a right to know.”

Thor nodded, shoulders dropping so dramatically he seemed to lose inches of height. “I fear I have lost her forever.”

“She just needs time to process this and decide what she wants to do. You gotta give her that, okay?”

By the time Darcy got home, she was ready to transfer the energy she hadn’t been able to unleash onto Thor at her ‘husband’ instead.

“Loki?” she yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

He strolled out to meet her, hands raised in surrender, his expression solemn. “Then she knows the truth.”

“I can’t believe you’d put me in the middle like that!”

“Then you would rather your friend find out about their incompatibility later—on the eve of the wedding? At the altar? After a year or more of failure to conceive?”

“Thor was going to tell her!”

“I’m sure he intended to, but intention and action are not always the same. He has given up so much for your friend, and neither of us know how much he would do to keep her at his side.”

“Well, I hope you’re happy, because they’re both in a world of pain now.”

“Better they face it today, because not facing it all was never an option. If you think ill of me in using you to deliver the news, think how unkindly the Allfather would have borne it to your friend. And no, I am not happy. I have gained little from this except for your wrath.”

Darcy took a deep sigh and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. It felt like she kept having the same argument with Loki and unfortunately for her, he was mostly right. Thor was in the wrong and although Loki was a scumbag for letting her break it to Jane, he was the lesser scumbag.

_How can he possibly think I’m not going to demand he sign those papers if he keeps pulling this shit?_

As if he’d been anticipating her bad mood—and he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t—dinner was ready on the dining table. More takeout, but it meant she didn’t have to cook so she couldn’t complain. Not about that, at least.

“You realize that buying me food will not win me over.”

“And yet, it is one of the most common Midgardian courtship techniques.” Loki pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit down. “Instead, I hope the pleasure of my company will gradually change your mind.”

“How gradual were you planning on that being, because you’ve only got three weeks left.”

He smiled in answer, confident in his abilities, passing her a plate of pilau rice and ensuring their fingers brushed when she took it from him.

They ate in silence for a while, but eventually Darcy’s wandering mind and curiosity made her forget to give Loki the silent treatment. “Do you have anything like curry on Asgard?”

“We have some spiced foods, but nothing like this. In truth, there is much more culinary variety to be found here on Midgard.”

“I think that was almost an admission that we’re good at something.”

Loki gave a non-committal shrug. He ate his korma delicately.

“I guess frost giants have to avoid the really hot stuff.”

She almost missed his scowl, since he covered it quickly with bland indifference. “My preference for milder tastes has nothing to do with my physiology.”

It was true, since Thor couldn’t handle heat either. She guessed it was because they weren’t used to it. Darcy had grown up in New Mexico so if food wasn’t hot enough to spontaneously combust, she considered it pretty mild. It didn’t stop her wanting to rib Loki. “Sure, sure.”

They lapsed back into silence, but now her train of thought was in Jotunheim. Loki had never mentioned it, but it had formed part of one of Thor’s hushed primers about his brother before Loki arrived. The part about attempted destruction of the entire realm had been enlightening. It was the one thing Darcy pitied Loki for: he’d been raised to hate his own species, and she’d been pretty sure as Thor explained the situation that he just didn’t understand how deep that cut. It was like someone finding out their birth parents were notorious serial killers.

“You ever considered going back to Jotunheim?” she asked, then froze, cursing her careless mouth.

To his credit, Loki didn’t descend into frothing rage. He barely blinked. “The Allfather does not consider it a good idea. Not yet.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“Much diplomatic work has gone into repairing the relationship between Asgard and Jotunheim. Asgard is assisting in the rebuilding of the realm. With Laufey gone, there has been a change in attitude from their throne and a willingness to work together.”

Darcy’s unfinished Poli-Sci degree gave her enough grounding to figure out that Jotunheim was in no position to refuse any help and had to let Asgard play at fixing things, or risk another smackdown. She was also paying close attention to Loki’s expression—the bitter twist of his lips and narrowed eyes, staring into the distance.

“At least you don’t have to get involved in any of that, then.”

He laughed, without humor, and pushed his plate away. “Such mercy, the Allfather shows me.” He rose and stalked across the room. “My apologies, I have somewhere I need to be.”

Between the time it took for his words to register and Darcy to turn around, he was gone. She guessed he was comfortable enough around her now to do the materializing thing, but it was still unnerving on her end. His abrupt exit had triggered another memory, though, of him appearing and disappearing in the middle of the night. Fully dressed.

Where had he been? What had he been doing? And how did she go about winning herself an all-expenses paid trip to Vanaheim?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time kind of ran away with me and before I knew it, it'd been two months. Sorry about that. If it helps, I'm participating in Nanowrimo, but all my 50000 words are going on fic. WIP fic, not new fic. At least some of that has to be Vegas.
> 
> I'm ridiculously behind on comments and review replies and I may never catch up, but if I don't, know it's because I'm spending the time writing. Or Tumbling. Or at work, booo.
> 
> Thanks to my betas Jen, Lindsey, Twiggy and Rhi.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lindsey, Rhi and Twiggy for a super-quick beta job. All mistakes are mine (especially any lingering Britishisms). Also thanks to tinyobsessive for the prompt, and Sigridhr for offering it to the world at large.
> 
> Since this is for Monday Mischief, I'll probably be updating every other Monday for the time being. Word of warning - at this point I have only the vaguest idea of where I'm going with this. Expect more than a hint of crack, but also naked Loki.


End file.
